True Intentions
by hotaru anne
Summary: In the outpost Babylon 5, trouble seems to lurk about the corner *Yay! It's done!*....
1. Prologue- The Beginning to Any Story

*This is my first B5 fanfic. I hope you like it. It involves two of my favourite B5 characters, and some interesting stuff here and there. It probably sucks but I wanna hear your opinions anywayz. ^^ By the way, none of the characters belong to me (except Adrian). Enjoy!*  
  
  
~*TRUE INTENTIONS*~  
PROLOGUE  
  
BABYLON 5  
YEAR: 2260, PAST  
Beautiful. The tavern smelled like the exotic fumes of beers, ales and other alcoholic compounds as well as the stench of unclean men and women, unclean floors and other types of smells Marcus didn't even want to search into just now. He didn't want to know, anyway.  
  
They called it Down Below, a name called by men and women who lived under the nice, safe enviorments within Babylon 5. Under all the hundred decks of a safe and ideal and nice enviorment was the dangerous, bum-like and unpleasant part of the station. Those who could not afford lived down there; you can get practically anything down here. That was why he liked it down here. The perfect place for information.   
  
But anything can happen down here. Anything at all. Most of the crimes were down here, most of the murders, the theft, anything happened down here. Anyone who was in trouble with the law was down here; anyone who was a fugitive or a terrorist. The perfect place to stash out to plan to bomb the station or to assasinate some ambassador figure. Sometimes, Marcus Cole thought to himself, the station should have never made all these corridors. But anyhow, it was time to get down to business.   
  
He sat down on the bar where a middle-aged and obviously drunk man sat, craddling his ale like a young baby. Gray hair, creased face, miserable life. But under all the sour and bitter remnants of his life was a devious and sly man; the perfect man for any updates or information. He often came to him for some information to dig. Better than staying up there.   
  
"Local synthale," he ordered to the bartender, a Drazi, who went straight to work. He turned to his friend informat. "Hello, Adrian," he greeted pleasantly, recieving the synthale and holding it in his hand, glazing at the rich yellow look before looking back at him. "How's life treating you?"   
  
Adrian snorted at the thought and took a sip out of his glass of alien ale. Green and strange, he gave a lucid look at him before putting the glass down. Drunk, already. And it wasn't even ten yet. "The usual," he replied lowly.   
  
"Anything going on that might interest me?"   
  
"Not much," he replied, glaring at his green drink. "I heard the Amsterdam gang's just gone to pick up some cargo from an Earth shipment." Marcus leaned closer. The Amsterdam gang; known for their stealth in weaponry and need of money. Just his luck. He already dealt with one of them and ended up in Medlab under Dr. Stephen Franklin's medical aid.   
  
"What kind of cargo?" Marcus pressed.  
  
"Oh, maybe some food, clothing," he replied wearily, barking in laughter. "Yeah, maybe some new sacks! Haw, haw, haw."   
  
"You're terrible, Adrian," Marcus claimed, frowning at him. "Now tell me, what are in the cargoes that they have to pick up?"  
  
"Artifacts," he gruffawed. "They want to steal the artifacts and sell 'em to the block markot." The ale was getting to him now. Too bad. Marcus frowned at the two thoughts. "Artifacts?" he asked himself. "Only the Interplanetary Expeditions do those---oh, i have to tell Ivanova this piece of info."  
  
"That ch---ick for a number too?" Adrian asked him stupidly. He gruffawed. "You're looooosing tuch with yorsel, Marcos. Damn, you really tink you can get on with the commandrrrr...?" Marcus snorted at his friend's drunk words and his accusation as he raised to his feet. "Better than you can," he told him, leaving the bar.  
  
  
"So, your so-called friend said this?" Ivanova asked, her tone cool and crisp as she sat in her living room of her quarters. It was pass ten already and she was back in her civilian clothes, or was it her night clothes?, her brownish-red hair down from her usual tight ponytail braid. Before her, Marcus sat. "Hmmm, he has a point. There is an IPX ship headed this way and should arrive tomorrow at the latest. I should put a warrent up---"  
  
"No, don't," Marcus insisted. "You do, and the gang will certainly do all they can to get the cargo while they can. No, you're going to have to go up on a different approach. We should try it my way." She laughed at the thought; he frowned althought personally liking it. "Did I do something wrong?"  
  
"The last time we tried it your way, we nearly got killed," she pointed out. "Okay, Mister Wise-Guy. You want it your stealthy, devious and cunning way, go right ahead. You do your way and I'll do it my way." Now it was his turn to laugh; she frowned at him. "I fail to see how that was very amusing."  
  
"You? Go Down Below?" he asked again. "You'll be recodnized!" This was a laughable matter. The well-known Commander Susan Ivanova of Earthforce, number two on the ship, in civilian clothes and walking around the shady and dark dephts of Babylon 5? It was so funny, it was laughable! Aw, the pain in his gut over laughing.   
  
"So?" she asked, clearly accepting it as a challage.  
  
"You'll get yourself killed!" he protested.   
  
"I fail to see the connection," she admitted. "But I am Number Two; I have my ways." "Then we'll see who can get those cargoes safe first," he declared. She raised her eyebrows. "Are you challanging me?" she asked her in her command tone.   
  
"Like bloody hell I am!"  
  
"Then so be it," she told him. "May the best man win!" 


	2. Introductions

Here's the second part of the story. Um, it's pretty shaky for a story since this was typed out about a year and a half ago now (heh heh, that's why it sounds a bit weird). ^^ You know, none of the characters belong to me cept for the Hak'Vir and whoever dosen't sound familiar.  
  
  
CHAPTER ONE  
  
So this was Babylon 5, the last of the Babylon stations. The five-mile long station in neutral territory for commerce, diplomacy, negotiation and of course, a little investment in profits here and there every now and then. Ah, so this was where they were to meet the Hak'Vir whom they were to sell the actifacts to.   
Maximillian Eilerson, or simply known as Max Eilerson was in charge of the delivery and the liasion to the Hak'Vir. Negotiation wasn't exactly his specialty; it was archaeology and as linguist. But, then again, he was the one who discovered the artifacts, so he had to be in charge. If he did an excellent job, perhaps he can get extra credits for it. Profit drove him, so did his brilliance whom everyone just hated and often did his mouth.   
But right now he needed his mouth. He was lost. Damn, this was pathetic. A liasion to the Hak'Vir who can't even find his way through the damned station. He was going to be the laughing stock in IPX of the entire year. He caught sight of an odd fellow in a black jacket with ebony hair and beard. Maybe he knew where he was going.   
"Um, excuse me, sir," he said to the man. "I'm Maximillian Eilerson, liasion to the Hak'Vir from the Interplanetary Expeditions. I seem to be, um, well, lost and I need to find the conference room. Do you know where it is?"  
"You're from IPX?" he asked. Funny, why should he ask? The man grabbed his arm and dragged him over to blend in with the crowds. "Good, very good. I must warn you of something; there is a gang that is here to steal whatever goods your ship is carrying." He looked around suspiciously. "You must secure it or else they will sell it to the black market."  
Max pulled himself back, alarmed. "Steal the artifacts!" he cried, then silenced when he caught some attention of some passers. He pulled close. "Are you certain? I thought Babylon 5 was a safe and ideal place and you're telling me it's a filthy and devious and a very dangerous place for me and my cargo?! I mean, don't get me wrong, but those are to be sold to the Hak'Vir and everything, Mr...mr..."  
"Marcus Cole," he said quickly. "I am certain. I have my sources. Now, you have to believe me---"  
"---There you are, Marcus!" came a familiar feminine voice. "I knew you had to be near the ship somewhere." He grunted and turned; Commander Ivanova was standing behind them. Max straightened abruptly at the sight to a presentable manner to the cordial and regulation-bounded commander of Babylon 5. What an actor.   
Marcus grinned cheesily. "Oh, Commander Ivanova! What a pleasant surprise," he said, hiding his surprise. He gestured to Max. "I was about to show Mr. Eilerson the way to the conference room. Mr. Eilerson, this is Commander Susan Ivanova, number two of the station."  
Mr Eilerson nodded cordially. "Commander," he said. "I finally get to meet you. I heard alot about you. May I compliment on what a superb job you are of taking care of this beacon of...peace? It is such an ideal and safe place to do business with other nations."  
Marcus groaned. The guy was a lady's man? Or just had an ego the size of a quasar? He was such a liar. Was it only minutes ago he was saying what a filthy and dangerous place this was? He was going to have a little chat with this man once Susan leaves them to themselves.   
"Thanks." Ivanova raised her brows suspiciously, not leaving Marcus' eyes. He felt small everytime she did that to him; why did she always have to do that, giving him the evil eye? It was sometimes irritating as if she was a telepath and he was being scanned...she wasn't a telepath, right? "Really?" she asked him.   
Marcus grasped Eilerson's arm tightly and forcing out an embaressed smile. "Of course, Commander," he told her defiantly. "Are you saying that I am incapable of escorting this man to meet the liasion of the Hak'Vir? Seriously, Commander, you should have more faith in little old me. Word of a Ranger, of course."  
Max raised a brow.   
"Okay, Marcus," she finally gave in. "You got me there. Have any problem, you call me." It meant that if he called her, he was obviously not having a great time as he planned, meaning his failure in the bet. He smiled. "Most likely, it won't be nessesary," he promised.   
"Okay, Marcus, you're on the lead," she said, nodding to Max. "Mr. Eilerson." Then, she strode away through the crowds off the Zocalo, blending in with the many men. Once she was out of sight, he hit Max on his arm, who flinched.   
"What was that for?" he demanded.   
"You're a really damned good liar," Marcus sneered. "You ego is the size of a quasar in front of the commander when only minutes ago you were telling me that this place was dangerous!" "Hey," Max replied, "you have to be polite to the people who run this place or else I'm without profit."  
"Is that all you care about, profit! You're damned good Eilerson, but you're not fooling me," he delcared at the IPX member. Max snorted at him. "And what about you?" he asked him. "'Honour of a Ranger, of course'," he imitated in Marcus' voice.  
"And I will keep my word," he told him with a pinch of dignity swelling in his voice. "I will be taking you to the conference room." He started dragging him by the sleeve of his creased clean jacket through the busy area of the Zocalo.   
  
"May I inquire about that interesting pin of yours?" Max asked.   
"No," he instantly replied as he stomped down the hallways, walking with purpose. Max kept reeling on the pin on his jacket that symbolizes that he was a Ranger, studying it with skeptical eyes. "Hmm," he said to himself. "Beautiful stone. Minbari one one side, human on the other, meeting at the bottom...could be worth alot in the markets..."  
Marcus stopped and glared at Max. He was getting very irritating with his greedy thoughts and a rather big mouth. Too brilliant for an archaeologist. He should have been a social worker or something if he was this talkative. "No, you will not," he told him flatly. "This is my symbol of where I belong."  
"It could be very priceful on the market," he tingled behind.   
"I said no."  
"C'mon, think of it, you can be with your family in a nice quiet place with no one to bother you..." he appraised.   
Marcus stopped instantly and turned back to him. "You know what you are?" he asked, his voice rising. "A self-centered, self-serving, greedy, annoying big mouth with an ego the size of the entire quandrant!" he cried at the IPX member, all his fustration and irritation blurted out right in from of him.   
"My, my, Marcus," came yet another familiar voice. "you finally characterized yourself of what you are...and it seems like you found youself a friend who shares the exact same qualities."   
Marcus cursed to himself, gunning me down, i suppose, as he turned with a bright smile on his face. How magnanamously fake. "Mr. Garibaldi," he greeted. "What another pleasant surprise. I was merely stating my problems with this IPX greedy, self-serving, self-centered, annoying, big-mouthed servant whose ego is the size of the entire universe itself."  
"I beg your pardon!" Max cried in his defence. "I see myself as a business-based, successful, brilliant achaeologist and linguist who is doing fine for a man. He," He gestured to Marcus, "is a realistic, somber, unsuccessful, flat, miserable slob on the floor who needs a little dose of his surroundings."  
"I am fine," Marcus huffed. "I am perfectly happy where I am. While you want the entire galaxy for the taking as business." "IPX is an archaeological expedition of planets," he explained. "While you, on the other hand, is leading a daringly stupid and dangerous life as a 'Ranger'."  
"You are such a bastardly business-racist in a suit!"  
"You are a miserable, no-excuse for a human being!" Max shot back.  
"You will be a slop in a pavement and still mouthing off!"  
"Ridiculous! I am merely stating out facts of life and career!"  
"Well, good for you for look who's being realistic!"  
Security Chief Michael Garibaldi could not believe this; the two biggest mouthes were against each other in a competition of who's better! Oh, he felt an urge to buy himself a pack of popcorn, call the other officers over and watch them pit against each other. This was funny. And it was beginning to give him a headache but laughing anyhow. "Okay, calm down, you two. You're attracting attention."  
Marcus glared at Garibaldi with his teeth clenched up and his jaw set as if the chief of security was going to jump on him. "No, I will not calm down!" he claimed, then glaring at Max with his icy blue eyes that reflected well to the light like a stone. "Tell him to shut his big fat ego up and maybe I might reconsider!"  
"Like hell I'm not!" Max cried. "Not until you shut your big, fat and hell-huge mouth of yours!"  
"Hah! Look who's talking!"  
"Hah! Well look at the mirror, shall you?" Max said smarily.   
Oh, that was bad, Garibaldi mimicked to himself. He wanted Marcus to be angry; he certainlyy got his attention. I wonder what Marcus will say now. He rubbed his chin as they continued to bicker. Their voices rose higher and higher as they continued to insult each other when finally, when Garibaldi couldn't take it anymore, he just snapped;  
"Okay, now shut the hell up!"  
Silence. Ah, much better. Garibaldi rolled his eyes. "You two are bad news," he finally said. "If you two want to kill each other, do it in front of the Centauri or do it out of the airlock. Without an enviormental suit."   
"I just might shove Mr. Eilerson out of the airlock," Marcus said."Oh yeah? Well, I just might put you in a Centauri gun powder spot while the weapons are ready to aim! Ha!" Eilerson marched back.   
The arguing continued. Oh, what the hell? Garibaldi rubbed his ears before leaving the two men to argue and insult and bicker their way out. He had to get to the Chambers room immediately for his report to be handed to Sheridan.   
  
The terms might not be correct, but anywayz...how is the story? R&R and I'll upload the next. 


	3. Headaches and Cul-De-Sacs

Here's chapter two to my story. Yes, none of these characters belong to me cept those that aren't mentioned in the actual series. k? plus, i know they don't sound right sometimes. r&r!  
  
CHAPTER TWO  
"You okay, Garibaldi?" Captain John Sheridan asked, putting dwon the report and looking at his security chief into the eye. Behind Garibaldi was Doctor Stephen Franklin and Commander Ivanova, standing and waiting, whose eyes were headed straight to Garibaldi with concern.   
"Nothing I can't handle," he replied, managing a grin. "I was watching a dispute between Marcus and this IPX guy with him, They were... pretty loud, I might say." He winced at his headache as Franklin went in search for some medicine to calm the headaches down.   
"Mr. Eilerson?" Ivanova pressumed, before satisfying herself with a smug grin. "I knew something was going to happen between those two." She caught Sheridan's raised eyebrows and straightened up for she was still on duty. "Mr. Eilerson is a liasion from IPX to sell some artifacts over to the Hak'Vir. Our friend Mr. Cole was suppose to show him to the conference room."  
"Hell, it was bound to happen," Sheridan sighed. "Marcus meeting someone with the same metalobism as he does...it can get pretty dangerous if those two stick together. God knows, maybe they'll still be strangling each other out the airlock."  
"Hmph, I suggested that to the two of them," Garibaldi said weakly. "The two went at it again, wanting to shove each other out the airlock. Marcus claims Mr. Eilerson has an ego the size of the entire galaxy while he shoots back to Marcus that he is the most miserable man alive." He laughed to himself. "I wanted to call you two down to show you myself... if I didn't get this damned headache."   
"If you did, we'd most likely be in the same position as you are in at the moment," Franklin told him. "Although it would be funny to see them try to bite each other's heads off arguing." He chuckled to himself, handing a small pill and a glass of water. "Take this and drink this."  
"Doc, I know how to use these."  
Sheridan frowned. "Do you know where they are?"  
"Red fourteen," he replied. "If you could let the station be silent, you can hear their voices echoing throughout the station." He chuckled again, shaking is head before taking the medicine Franklin had handed to him.   
"Have something in mind, sir?" Ivanova asked him.   
"Computer, show suvellience camera of Red-14," he ordered before turning back to his executive officer. "I want to make sure those two aren't killing each other...just yet." Ivanova considered it as they looked at the screen on the mirror. There was Max and Marcus, arguing away in the middle of the corridor.   
"Damn you, may the profit you earn flow out of your nose!" Marcus yelled. Max was taken aback, physically recoiling, but that didn't wear him down. "May the staff you carry be shoved up your rear!" he snapped back angrily. Oh, this was funny. Hilarious.   
Sheridan started laughing. He could understand why Garibaldi wanted them to come down. Franklin watched with amused eyes while the chief of security was watching, and then chuckling. Only Ivanova remained frozen at the screen. She turned to Captain Sheridan. "Permission to leave."  
"Granted," he replied. "Susan, don't you want to see this?"  
"Of course," she replied. "Of course I would want to see Marcus try to bite off someone's head off who has the exact same characteristics as him. But someone's got to explain why the IPX representative never came." She nodded shortly and then spun on her heel and left them to watch the big show. Garibaldi shook his head. "I don't get it," he told them. "She seemed unamused about it."  
"Maybe because the man has a huge crush on her?" Franklin asked.   
"I wonder whether they can stay like this this long," Sheridan wondered out loud. "I mean, they're bound to fall and call truce at sometime, right?"  
  
It was already eleven at night and the two were still at it. Sheridan yawned as he rolled his sore muscles back and lay back on his chair, his eyes trying hard to remain open. But exhaustion and pain was rolling throughout his body like a hurricane. Garibaldi was slouching down on his desk, drowsy and his eyes almost entirely shut. Franklin was leaning by the wall, blessfully asleep.   
"Oh, my God," Sheridan yawned. "They're...still...at it."  
Garibaldi shook his head dreaily. "All I can hear...is my brain... pounding...and, and...aching. My ears are...aching like...hell..." He slouched down again, this time snoring on his way as he fell fast asleep on the captain's desk.   
"At least I'm not a greedy, self-serving bastard who knows nothing about the real world!" Marcus was shouting to the IPX member. "Damn you if you know nothing but profit ad your damned-forsaken ego!" Max glared at him. "Well at least I don't look like my great grandfather back from the dead!" he accused at the ranger.  
Now that made Marcus get even more angrier.  
Now Captain Sheridan was extremely exhausted. "Computer, time," he ordered tiresomely. The computer replied dutifully, "The time is 2357 hundred hours." He rolled his eyes. This was insane. "Okay, you two," Sheridan yawned. "Out. Go to your quarters and get some...sleep."  
"Aye, sir," Garibaldi nodded, staggering to his feet and walking to the door, where Franklin was leaning onto. He tugged on his shirt. "C'mon, Stephen," he coaxed in a dreamy voice, "time to go to our quarters." He began to drag him away towards the main corridors.   
"Sleep?" Franklin asked dryly, half awake.   
"Yeah, on my planet, that's what its called," Garibaldi told him.  
"On my planet too," the doctor agreed.  
Garibaldi frowned. "That's where we both come from, you doofus."  
Once they were gone, Sheridan allowed himself to pulled off his top uniform, leaving only his white-collared shirt. The blue uniform was cutting him off from air supply and was leaving his muscles rusty. He leaned back on the chair, allowing his head to clear. Unfortunately, he could still hear Marcus and Max arguing non-stop.   
"On God's name, I am going to personally ask Captain Sheridan to put you on the brig!" Marcus snapped viciously. Sheridan's ears pricked at the mention of his name. Yeah, what about both of you in the same brig, hmm? he asked himself. Or, better yet, outside the airlock, the two of you. Naw, Ivanova always wanted to boot Marcus out of the station herself. Very well.   
"Oh yeah? Rather you than me," Max evened it up. "I am going to complain straight to IPX of your nuicience." "How the hell did they let you into that business in the first place?!" Marcus wanted to know. "Hell, I can't even stand you for a minute's worth!"  
True, for the both of them. "Computer, turn off screen."  
The silence welcomed him. Oh, he wanted to go to his quarters right now and have a bath and some water before slipping into bed. But, his muscles went rigid as they were tough as stone. Damn, it appears I won't be going anywhere tonight, he told himself. At least the silence was conforting as he drifted off to sleep.   
  
An hour later, Marcus and Max were still at it, but wearing down. Both were beginning to slouch and stagger, their eyes blurred and both of their throats were now dry from all the yelling at each other. Finally, they were on the floor facing each other from seperate walls, crouching down wearily. No one else was around. No sound. Only their deep breaths.   
"I give up," Max moaned. "You are the first person I have ever met that took me about the entire afternoon yelling at each other. Unfortunately, I missed that blasted meeting. Now I guess I'm going to have to lose those extra credits that I was aiiming for so long ever since I got that damned cargo."  
Marcus frowned at the IPX member. "Is that all you think about?" he demanded. "Money? Your career? Your damned ego?" This was unbelieveable; here they were, past the middle of the night and still up and chattering about his job. My gosh, was that all he talked about? "You already spent thriteen hours straight yelling and that's the first thing uou worry about?"  
His counterpart gave a bitter laugh. "Hell, it wasn't all I cared about," he told him wearily, clearing his throat. "The only three things I have ever loved was my job, my cat, and my wife." He sighed audibly as Marcus wondered who on earth would love someone who was so full of himself. Ah, life and its surprises. "Then, she left," he continued, "with my cat, and now I'm left with my job."  
Marcus considered it. It was pretty awful for someone to go through with that for life. "I lost a brother and I have no loved ones waiting for me," he offered weakly. After a moment's of silence, he gathered himself to his feet. "Come, I'll buy you a drink. You need it."  
"But the bars are closed," Max protested.   
Marcus did not listen as he grabbed him to his feet. "On the Zocalo, they are," he clarified, giving in a sheepish grin. "But not Down Below."   
They started to troop down the empty corridors and before long, they arrived. Exotic smells, sounds and sights, everything was like a 20th century Earth bar. Different exotic and rather-drunkening wines and beers and ales to the stenches no one would like to know. This was what goes on underground.   
He settled on the bar with Max beside him. "Bartender, the usual," Marcus barked, and when he took the peer of Max, he added, "Make it two."  
The bartender grunted and went to work, pouring some seemy yellowish-brown mixture into two cups and passing it to them. Marcus handed one two Max and raised the glass of ale. "To all our problems," he said. "That they may all go away someday."  
"Hear to that!" Max replied, both gorging down on the drinks.   
The bartender grinned at the two. "Enjoy," he told them and returned back to work behind the counter.   
  
Cmdr. Ivanova glanced around, her soft hair joining with her. The cargo was already being maintained by a pack of security officers. If she knew better, the gang could just strike at any time; no careful presision, no fundamentals, no checks. Going straight to the kill in no time.  
She was in civilian uniform, with only that golden-silver strip pin showing that she was in command. Her gun was in check and all she was waiting for was the target. This shouldn't be a problem, knowing that Marcus might be either getting himself drunk right now or was still at it with Max. She bit back a grin; she was terribly feeling guilty for leaving him like that. She planned to go to the bar later to pick him up and drag him home.   
Hussle in the wind.   
Ivanova stopped and ducked for cover, her weapon raised. There was someone around. She signalled the nearby security officer, who signalled the rest. Time for some action. She waited quietly, with only steps of the security officers running off, leaving the cargo vunerable.   
Faces; about five of them, smirking at the sight. She listened carefully at their drunken voices. "Pathetic," one spat. "Running off and leaving the cargo vunerable. If I were in Earthforce, I would never leave anything out in the open like that. But, the favours on us, I suppose."  
Not for long, Ivanova thought, a grin quirking.   
"What the hell is in it?" another asked. Snap, click. "Shut up and do as you are told," the first one snapped. "Now get the ropes ready and let's tow this cargo off before the Earthforcers return. Oh, the look on their faces will be worth the ride."  
And so will yours, Ivanova added silently.   
On a spilt second, all the security officers bolted up, along with her, their guns trained on their cargo looters. The gangsters were indeed shocked as they dropped all their materials from their nimble hands. it clunked on the floor with a resounding clunk.   
"Step away from the cargo, right now!" Ivanova ordered, waving her gun as two security officers clicked the restraints on their wrists. The first one, a big ugly dope looking guy, snarled at the commander. "How the hell did yu find out!?" he demanded.   
"Presision, accuracy, perhaps a little poking around and doing some business down below and there you have it," she clipped at the big oaf, a satesfaction washing over. "Take them away. Minou, Hudson, Leick, Carsonn stay behind and guard the cargo in case some more of their little friends decides to drop by."  
"Aye sir," they replied. Leick approached her. "And you, sir?"  
She gave the young officer a half grin. "I have to pick up a friend of mine before he gets too drunk," she told him. "You have your orders. Proceed." She then marched out of the cargo bays, feeling strangely satesfied with herself. Oh, the look on their faces were good. And Marcus' too when he finds out the he owed her.   
She smiled at the idea. 


	4. A Little Dab of Vodka...

Here's the next installment. Sorry it took a while, I was really busy with some other stories. Anyways, you know the drill, and please R&R!  
  
  
CHAPTER THREE  
"So anyway, there I was, standing ontop of the remains of the E'ci'pa in this planet," Max was telling Marcus, obviously the ale had soaked through to his thick skull. They were drunk, and a collection of empty ale glasses before them, two slightly full. "When one of my people tell me they're going to haul it off. And I tell them, "You idiot. I'm still standing here!"  
The two men laughed coarsely as they drowned in testostrome, gulping down some more ale. The bartender sighed as he replenished them. There was only a veil of people left in the bar, perhaps it was already late. But, where was he to go? Nowhere. No family to go home to. Nothing.   
"So, Marcus," Max said drearily. "You haven't talked much about your love life." He let out a laugh and drank some more ale. The idea made the ranger a little more sober as he studied the ale. "There is someone I am waiting for," he said, "but she dosen't know."  
"Why keep the lady back?"   
"I never exactly found the "right one"."  
"Are you telling me you're what I think you are?" Max asked.   
Marcus let a small smile. "Yes," he admitted, drinking a bit more. Max peered pass the glass and into Marcus. Those eyes were damned piercing, even for a drunk man. "Does she know?" he asked him, settling back and drinking.   
"No," he replied uneasily. "I don't want to mess things up between us." Max nodded in understanding as the ranger shrugged. "I'll tell her when I'm ready," he told the IPX representative. "When the time is right and when I am ready." He shrugged again and took a sip out of the ale. Soothing.   
"Who is she?" Max suddenly popped, then gave him a sly smile. Uh-oh, trouble. "Ohh...lemme guess...it's that commander we ran into this morning. That Russian chick...Eevannova or somethin'."  
"Ivanova," Marcus corrected. "Commander Susan Ivanova." He sighed drearily. "I don't understand. She's clever, she's smart and it's easy for me to make her laugh. And I look at her that way. I see her smile and I feel like I'm in heaven. When I see her upset, it makes me feel down. I drive her insane only to keep her from going insane."  
"Ah," Max sighed. "You're in love."  
"I suppose I am," Marcus agreed, drinking again. "There are days that even if I'm in a darkest mood, she would just appear and smile and I would no longer feel so down." He sighed overdramatically and looked down on the ale. "I believe that we shall never be."   
Max smacked his shoulder. "What the hell is that suppose to mean?" he demanded. "I mean, we're on a verge of a war here. ISN is bumping their heads over something about this vessel that might pose as a threat to the entire galaxy. Earth's politics are up in shambles and we're on for civil war. And you are losing hope? Never lose hope! Faith manages on her own, thank you."   
"I'm not sure what that's suppose to mean," he said, frowning.   
Max smiled dimm-wittedly as he smiled and stabbed a finger at him. "It means," he emphasised, "that you, my loveless friend, must somehow show your feelings to her. Before everything falls down in your world. I have nothing to lose...except my job." He paused, thinking of himself. "Anyway, you my friend, has only one thing to lose; her." He smiled crookedly. "C'mon, go for it."  
Marcus frowned. "What if---"  
"Marcus! There you are!" Ah, the shining beacon in space.   
The bummed-out ranger turned to see Ivanova stride into the bar. Her rank flashed; the bartender quickened his work as other customers murmured to themselves. Fortunate enough, she was in a civilian suit, and frankly to Marcus' opinion, rather good on her. Unfortunately, he was drunk enough that he could see her multiplying.   
"Ah, so the good commander decides to join us!" Marcus jeered, as Max hid a chuckle, babysitting his ale. Marcus turned his attention to the two Ivanovas, then asking, "A drink, perhaps?" She smiled kindly; ah, the storm clouds parted into pure sunshine as she shook her head. "No thank you," she refused politely. "I think we should get going now, Marcus. It is way pass your bedtime."  
Spoken like his mother. If his mother was still alive. He bemused a grin facing one of the Ivanovas and closing his face on her till they were fractions apart. But of course, he was drunk. He didn't even knew if she smacked into her. "Isn't it pass yours?"  
She shrugged casually as she maneuvered her face away from his. The ale was intoxicating and it was making her feel like convulsing. He obviously drank too much and was now drunk beyond repairs. All she could hope now was to maneuver him into his bed. If she could. If he wasn't so heavy filled with testostrone and ale and alcohol. "I can always switch with someone," she offered. "Besides, you need to get some rest."  
"What about my friend---?" Marcus asked. Behind him, Max snorted.   
She turned to peer over Max to see him just as drunk as him. In fact, he was beginning to sing some damned sappy song. Ivanova rolled her eyes. What were they thinking? What was Marcus thinking, bringing him here after that blowout just hours ago? She decided to face the fact with a cool, crisp order. "I'm sure I can shove the both of you to your quarters; if I don't wear down myself."  
"Aw, is it that early?" Max piped from behind, taking another sip of his deminishing ale. "C'mon, commander, just one drink."   
Ivanova sighed; her throat was parched. Her stomach growled for something as her head kept arguing to shove them both to covers and go to bed. She was actually feeling sleepy and dopey and tired of her days. She needed a glass. She blinked; Marcus was staring at her with lucid eyes that ment that he was drunk.   
Oh, what the heck?  
"Bartender," she called. "One glass of vodka, please."   
  
They already shoved Max into his quarters. It was hard enough. He and Marcus were singing some sappy song that she couldn't quite catch, but then again, she was just as drunk as they were. Thank goodness she managed to find his guest quarters, but the paths seemed to multiply, then multiply twice again.   
She was dizzy, she was tired. Gosh, they were down at green thriteen. Now it was only her and Marcus in the turbolifts, as it hummed beneath them. Marcus was still humming to himself, off-beat so say the least. Both were quiet. She thought that if she could muster enough power to at least say good night, that was good that she wasn't completely drunk. Ah, ale and its own consequences.   
"You know," Marcus said outloud, finally, when the silence was unbearable. "If you listen close, you can hear a swarm of bees coming in from a mountain top, just as big as a house, just one, gigantic bee carrying all its bloody problems in life, all swirling and burdening and..."  
"Marcus," she intervened. "You're not making any sence." Ivanova shook her head, trying to fight the dreariness. "A bee can't fly over a mountain top, it'll just freeze into one big gigantic ice...popsicle." She shook her head. That wasn't right. "I mean, a...fridge. No, that didn't sound right either..."  
"If you're not making sence," he said, "and if I'm not making sence, that draws to but one conclusion."  
"What's that?" she asked, blinking.   
He grinned widely. "it means...we're drunk."  
Oh, damn, she laughed. She laughed hard. Marcus and she laughed, echoing down the lifts to wherever. That was funny. Their situation was funny. Life was funny. Oh, where were they going? Where were they? Did she command the right place to Marcus' quarters? In the matter of fact, could she remember where his place was. "Okay," she marvelled out loud. "Where the hell are we going?"  
"You are headed to level red one," the computer replied dutifully.   
She snipped at the computer, her eyes darting around. "Thank you, Mr. Flat-voice," she snipped at the computer. Marcus laughed again. She instantly flashed a smile as she shook her head. "You know what? I don't know how the hell they could install such a dutiful-type of computer."  
"Too---what shall we call it?"  
"Dutiful?"  
They laughed again. The lift stopped and the doors swished open. They staggered out, supporting each other as their shoulder blades hit the corridor walls madly. This was absurb, insane, to be staggering about in the corridors around four in the morning.   
Ivanova haulted in front of her quarters as the door opened. They staggered in. He plopped unrealistically onto her couch, landing on his right arm and shoulder softly. She walked over to her small kitchen and pulled out a bottle of vodka. "You want some?" she asked, her voice drowning in alcohol.   
He shrugged. "What have I got to lose?"  
She smiled cheesily. "Your sanity, your soberness," she offered as she blindy poured some vodka into two glasses. "You brains, maybe your rear." He laughed as she handed him the glass. They raised their glasses. "To sanity," Marcus slurred.   
Ivanova matched a toast as they drowned themselves in vodka. Marcus let out a gasp of air. "Whoo," he clipped. "I never knew vodka was this strong." "The best you can get out of this Russian tonight," she said, her voice and words slurred along. "Considered this is my first time I have ever gotten drunk this year, I suppose it was good that I survived the entire excusion."  
"That's nice to know."  
A couple more glasses. First it became three forths, then two forths, then one forth, an eighth, a twelfth...till it was all gone. Now Ivanova and Marcus lost all their sanity and soberness. The alcohol was swarming in her brain. Gosh, she never done this before. Let alone in front of Marcus.   
Thank God if he didn't remember a thing tomorrow.  
"I think I'll go to bed now," she said in a drunk voice, staggering to her feet. She nearly fell back into her plant vase if Marcus didn't catch her and hauled her up to her feet again. She was so incredibly close that she could feel his body temperature. "Thanks," she murmured.   
"I think I'll walk you there," he offered. "Before you crash into anything---" "Good thinking, dad," she slurred again. Oh, if she could just look closer, she could see her father looking down on her. Come to think of it, Marcus looked kind of like him when her eyes were blurred from the vodka.   
They walked into her bedroom. She dropped her boots and lay down onto her bed and sighed, looking at the ceiling. "Dad," she whispered, "where are you going to sleep?" Marcus smiled as he lay down beside her. "Go to sleep. I'll be here," he replied.   
"Good night, dad...Marcus."  
"Good night, Susan."  
And at the same time, the lights went out.   
  
"John."  
Ah, a familiar and kind voice. He blinked as he opened his heavy-lidded eyes. He blinked again; as a woman's face was looking kindly down on him. At first, he thought he was seeing the dead ghost of his wife, Anna, but then he noticed the long brown hair and the alien eyes and the familiar ridges that showed her former heritage. Ambassador Delenn.   
"Delenn?" he asked in question.   
She smiled at him kindly as he struggled to a sit-up position. His back ached like blazes, and he was still getting use to the lights. She was kneeling beside his chair, a warm mug on her hands. She handed it to him graciously. "Here. Drink this. You will need it to keep your strenghts up."  
He laughed in embaressment as she gazed at him with questioning eyes. He looked at her and smiled. Oh, how he longed for the company since his wife's tragic death. Delenn was his beacon, his hope, his support, his counterpart. She was there when he needed the help. "I---" he shook his head. "I fell asleep."  
"We were suppose to have breakfast, John."  
"Oh---that's right! I'm sorry, Delenn. Tomorrow then."  
She frowned. "Tomorrow your back will hurt even more if this catches up," she pointed out briefly, before her frown creased into a shy smile. "I suppose breakfast can wait till tomorrow. Your shift starts in fifteen minutes."  
He bolted up. "It's morning?!"  
"Yes, John."  
"I---I fell asleep."  
She rolled her eyes cumberly and gave him another gracious smile. "Yes, John, you have," she admitted to him. She got to her feet and picked up his jacket that went with his uniform. He then realized that it was a bit chilly; he had taken off the discustingly heavy uniform top off last night. Then, the realization popped.   
"What were you...doing, last night, to make you sleep there?"  
He looked back at the chair. "Oh, it's nothing," he dismissed, but once he caught Delenn's stare, he sighed and said, "Marcus and this IPX member were having an arguement, big mouth to big mouth. it went up to... eleven, i think, in the night! Can you believe that?!" He sipped the stuff from the mug. Mmm...what was it?  
"I suppose so," Delenn mustered up to say. "Marcus mastered many things; stealth, alertness, control. Unfortunately, patience and blabbering wasn't exactly mastered completely." She sighed. "Oh, I do hope he is...okay."  
"I hope so," Sheridan agreed, bringing to his feet. "Well, I better get going. If I have a shift to start soon enough, might as well...go." He smiled at her again and she returned it with gratitude. Ah, at least the world somewhere has been bright enough for him. "Thank you, Delenn."  
She bowed down slightly and watched him leave.   
  
"Morning, one and all." Garibaldi strode into C&C, hands jabbed into his pockets, whistling, a pad tucked on his arm. Lt. Cmdr. David Corwin and Security Zack Allen looked up from their consols. Wait a minute...since when did Zack work up in C&C? "Mr. Corwin, Mr. Allen, you're up early."   
"Mornin' chief!" Zack greeted.   
"Up early, always will be," Corwin grumbled.   
Garibaldi frowned slightly, not sure on what he ment. He looked around; something was peculiarly wrong. "Hey," he said, "has any of you seen Ivanova? It's her shift, and I have a report to hand it." He frowned at the padd. "I'm not lugging this piece around all day."  
"She was suppose to be here," Corwin told Garibaldi without looking up. "For her shift. But she's not. She's not responding to her link but computer's indicated she's in her quarters." He tried oh-so hard not to show his grin. "I think she's just...overslept."   
Garibaldi frowned. This wasn't like her. "I think I'd better go there," he said cautiously. "To check if she's okay." He was about to head to the lifts when Zack stepped into his way. He frowned again. "Zack, come on, now!"  
"Chief," he said, as if conspiring. "I don't think that's such a good idea. Let the commander sleep in a bit. I mean, she's been working her butt out for the last couple of weeks ever since news came out about the shadows.She needs the excess sleep. Corwin and I got it all covered up here."  
Corwin stiffened up in protest over what Zack said.  
He gave a warbly smile and plucked the padd out of his hold. "Tell you what, Chief," he continued. "We'll handle this precious baby and we swear we aren't going to peek. When we see the commander, we'll give it to her. Is that fine with you, sir?" He smiled again.  
The chief plucked the padd from his friend's hand and tossed it over to Corwin. "Understood," he said lightly, jamming his hands in his pockets again. "I'll see you for your shift, Mr. Allen." He tilted his head slightly at the other officer. "Mr. Corwin." He then strode to the doors of the lift and left the center.   
Zack scowled at Corwin. "Why'd he tossed it to you?"  
The lieutenant smiled slightly. "Because I have a higher rank than you do, Zack," he simply replied. Before he could reply, he caught something on his screen. "I'm picking up a vessel. Something's coming through the jump point."  
  
"Commander Ivanova, the time is 1030 hundred hours."  
Ivanova yawned and shifted her position in her bed. Damn, every morning for the last three years was the same eight words ever single morning Why couldn't she be left alone for once? Ten thirty hundred hours?! She kept hearing the same words but kept ignoring them and telling the computer to shut up. Oh, she was dead for it!   
Without opening eyes, she shifted a bit to her left. This was unconfortable; what on earth was she wearing?! She opened one dreary eye. Civilian clothing. Black trousers and a nice collarless shirt, a bit unbuttoned down. Her rank insignia flashing. Her hair messed up from her position in bed. Her mouth tasting like...vodka? What on earth happened to her last night?  
She felt another body shift. What the---? She spun around in surprise to find Marcus Cole just waking up from his side of her bed, apparently in a clueless state as she was in. His hair seemed a bit messed up from plopping onto her bed last night; what happened last night? He was fully dressed, except his collar was a bit loosened up.  
"Where am I?" he asked drearily, his voice rasped. Vodka.  
She bit back a smile at his hapless state, without opening her eyes. "You're in my quarters, Marcus," she stated dryly as his voice was. God, was she hapless or feeling sorry for herself or what? "In my bed no less." Hmm...  
He snapped his eyes opened to see the commander's body faced towards his. Not on her feet yet. At least she was in the same situation as he was in. At least she wouldn't bite his head off. Normally. Why the sudden cool surface? At least he could land.   
"Um...er...I...what... happened last night?" he stammered. "I hope, we---um, well---we didn't---?" She knew what he ment and shook her head thankfully. "No," she replied. "I'm remembering bits and pieces of what happened last night. You were in the bar Down Below with that IPX member guy, drinking yourselves drunk. You invited me in...I guess I got as drunk as you two were."  
"Sorry," he muttered helplessly, in fear she'd steam up.   
She inwardly took it into her heart; outside, she continued. She wouldn't want him to think she had a weakness of forgiving instantly. "We took that Eilerson back and apparently, I think we had some vodka before plopping onto bed."  
"That's it---right?" Being careful. She liked that.  
"Yes. That I could---remember."  
"Vodka," he remarked, tasting his lips. "I still have it on my mouth. It didn't dry off." She nodded, and for a moment, they just looked at each other. A side of her said, oh, just do it. The other said, you're late, ms. full-in-command. His eyes...so...full of depht. Innocence but knew what was outside the world beyound to what she will ever know.  
Her eyes...so...full of defences, her mind filled with dephts of secrets never to blossom. Yet inside, Marcus could almost see there was only a vunerable Susan Ivanova lying and seeing curiously of her surroundings. One part of him said to just do it but the other protested not to.   
"Commander, the time is 1040 hundred hours."  
She blinked and drew herself up, avoiding any humiliation or confrontation. Ah, thank goodness she made a move. Marcus did the same, back to business, same as always. It was silly, having a Ranger right beside you while you sleep? Maybe instead of an angel, God sent him. Ach. He should have sent a lest irritable one.   
"Did it just say 1040 hundred?" he asked, perky.  
"Oh, damn!" she spat angrily. "My shift started more than three hours ago! Oh...what will Corwin say? We were suppose to analyse that damned problem with the jump point!" She gulped. "Or worse yet, what will Sheridan say?!"  
"Corwin will ignore the fact and continue with his job till you arrive," he pointed out gently. "As for Sheridan; hopefully he wouldn't be up in C&C right now..."  
  
"Where is Commander Ivanova?" Sheridan demanded. "We got a burnt-to-crisp probe and she's not even on duty yet? Her shift started more than three hours ago!" He scowled at the two officers. "You two were here all that time! Why haven't you contacted her? hmm?"  
Crowin and Allen gulped and held back, accepting the scowls.   
"Well?" Sheridan demanded.  
"Well, um, sir," Allen began when Corwin interjected. "Um. Captain," his number three said, "we did not contact her because when I saw her leave last night, she seemed rather...tired, fatigue. No sleep in days, sir. When she didn't show up, or acknowledge our hails but the computer says she's in her quarters, we assumed she just...overslept."  
"Lieutenant---" the captain prowled.   
"She needed one," Allen told him. "Everyone needs it once in a while." He gave a timid smile as the captain's features melted a bit. The steady-gripped jaw was gone. At least he wasn't yelling anymore.  
"Well," he stated. "I suppose so."  
The two exchanged relieved glances.   
Sheridan smiled. "But," he added, "since she's not here and she's missing three shifts, you two are both on a triple shift now in her place. Deal with the jump point problem. Report to me at 0800 tomorrow. Understood?"  
Their faces dropped. "Yes sir."  
He walked off, out of C&C, to the chamber of Non-Aligned Worlds.   
"Great," Allen and Corwin grumbled to themselves.   
  
So, what do u think? I'll get the next one as soon as I can! 


	5. Unawaited Surprises

Here's the next part of the story. ^^ Like the vodka part, huh? Well, anyways, here it is. None of the characters belong to me 'cept the ones that dosen't sound like anyone you know on the show. ^_~ R&R!  
  
CHAPTER FOUR  
The two entered Ivanova's living room. Vodka bottle, not a drop remaining. Two glasses beside it, sone with a drop left and the other with none. Her vase seemed unaligned and a bit off-centered. The lights were dimmed and lumicent.  
"Computer, lights," Ivanova ordered. The lights brightened as the two inspected the surroundings the last evening, recollection coming back to them. Beside her, Marcus stiffened a bit, tense, at the sight of the bottle of vodka and the empty glasses.   
"Must have been a quite a party," she commented, cleaning up.  
"Hmm?" he asked, looking back at her. She smiled as she placed away the two cups and the empty bottle. She turned back at him, watching him visibly recoil and blink as he tried too hard to hide his embaressment. "I don't remember much, but I could swear you were calling me "dad" last night."  
She frowned. "Dad?" she repeated. "Why would I say something as dopey-sounding as that?" She shook her head. "Anything?" she asked and he politely helped himself of the thought as she prepared herself at least some biscuits. "Dad...hmmm...why would I say that?" she asked out loud. She studied Marcus as he prepared her table. She brought the biscuits over. "Come to think of it, you kinda look like him in a small way," she told him.  
He frowned. "Yeah, I might as well look like you great-grandfather."  
None of my great-grandfathers would look like you, she said silently. None of them were a handsome British, or a Ranger for that matter. She excused the thoughts immediately as she acknowledged it with a single graceful nod.   
"Computer, messages?" she asked.   
"There are fifteen messages on hold for you," it replied. "Fourteen of them are marked urgent." She scowled as Marcus grimaced at the contents made from the computer. She brushed her haird back in an air of fustration. "Computer, scroll down messages from the person of origin."  
"Lt. Cmdr. David Corwin, Ambassador Delenn, Ambassador G'kar, Security Zack Allen, Lt. Cmdr. David Corwin, Michael Garibaldi, Dr. Steven Franklin, Security Zack Allen, Lt. Cmdr. David Corwin, Captain John Sheridan, Nancy Reynolds, Security Ensign Lei Minh Carsonn, Ambassador Londo Mollari..."  
"Whoa, wait a minute," she said. "Relay message from Ensign Carsonn." The computer oblidged, her computer screen turned to the face of her young collegue, her short crimson bob noticable as her eyes seemed weary. "Commander Ivanova," she said, as if responding to her presence. "I have the piece of the Amsterdam gang in holding cell three, so that you may just know. We will interrogate them tomorrow morning, just to let you know. Carsonn out."  
"Damn," she said beneath her breath.   
"Wait a second here!" Marcus cried. "Amsterdam gang, in holding cell? Susan, is there something you'd want to tell me what this is all about?" he demanded. She faced his piercing gaze, keeping is cool straight face. "Caught the gang who was going to steal the cargo last night," she told him proudly. "And as of right now, you owe me."  
He dropped into his chair, as if he was drenched with cold water. She tried hard not to bite back a grin. She was afraid he was going to bounce back in thought that this was the first time he lost to a female, not to mention the second on the station. But then he just grinned and said, "Whatever you say, Commander."  
She nodded. "I gotta take a shower," she told him hastily. "Ohh... I'm going to be so late that Sheridan might as well shove me out of the airlock." She sighed. "What am I to do?" "I'll clear off the table," he offered. "You go take your shower and get prepared."  
"Marcus, I---"  
He held her shoulder. "Please," he said. "It's the least I can do for you." His eyes. "Go take your shower and do upon your business. I can clean up this mess we made last night and before you know it, you'll be on C&C trying to clean out the mess that I fear Mr. Allen and Mr. Corwin might have made up there."  
"Okay," she said meekly.   
Moments later, when she was finished, all crisp and cool and clean in her uniform, she saw the Marcus had did what he had said he would do; everything was clean and even shining in polish. And there he was, finished and laid out on her chair, perspiration all over his forehead. She came over to his side.   
"You've done a...very good job, Marcus," she complimented. "Enough to apply for as a mid-wife." He looked up at her with tired eyes. "I'm not even married and I'm this exhausted," he replied wearily. "I guess it comes with the job. I might as well go and tell Mr. Eilerson of the news; if he isn't suffering from a huge headache himself."  
"I'll come with you."  
"And what about Sheridan and Corwin and all the others---?"  
"They can wait," she replied. "My next shift is in---"   
The doorbell chimed. They froze, their spines tense. This was ridiculous! There they were in the same room, talking and in was about to be ridiculed for their lives. They gulped; Ivanova straightened her uniform but said nothing. The words were strained in her throat.   
"Commander Ivanova, we know you're in here!" It was Garibaldi! Oh no! This was going to be a disaster! Marcus gulped dryly as he tried desperately not to hide. He turned to her for support, but she to was in need of some. "Commander." It was Sheridan! "Commander, I think it's a little bit to late to be oversleeping. Now open this door...don't make us want to use override and then run off when you bite our heads off."  
Oh, might as well get it over with. "Come it!"  
The door opened and there was her two friends, cluttering up the corridor, behind them officers and civilians alike walking back and forth. Marcus cringed as they walked in. Garibaldi and Sheridan equally were surprised when they saw Marcus in the room. "Oh! Marcus," Sheridan greeted. "Didn't know you were...here."  
Ah, surprises, surprises.   
"Yes, Captain," he replied weakly. "Here I am."  
"Commander," Sheridan said, turning to face her. "You're late for your shifts." "Yes sir," she said, desperately trying not look down on the carpet floor. "I was out on an errand last night and I got to bed a little to late." She exchanged a quick glance at Marcus, who rotated his eyes to her for a moment.  
"I suggest you start your shift after lunch, then," Sheridan told her, ignoring the exchange between her and the ranger. "Corwin and Allen has it all covered up there. Until then, I'll see you in the Chamber of Non-Aligned Worlds...again." He tipped his head. "Commander, Marcus."  
He trooped out to the hallway.   
Garibaldi raised his eyebrows in suspicion. "Staying for lunch as well, Marcus?" he asked him. Marcus shrugged but remained standing tall this time and managed a smile. "Brunch, I suppose," he said, undeterred by the security chief's sudden suspicion.  
"I suppose---"  
"Michael!" Sheridan cried from the hallway, and was comically removed from the quarters. Before the doors shut, they could hear Sheridan say to Garibaldi, "I suggest you leave them alone to---whatever they were...doing."  
"John! I don't believe you would---"  
Thud. The door slammed shut. Ivanova rocked on her heels, and raised her brow. "There'll be quite a commotion when I return to C&C," she told him quietly. "We might as well get going, Marcus. We wouldn't want to stir up some more commotion."  
He nodded out of a daze. "Agreed."  
  
Max seemed a little whiter than usual. "Not my fault," he spurred at the two people behind him. "The ale gave me one hell of a headache. I'm not even sure how I got into my quarters, let alone going over to see my to-be-robbers of my precious artifacts that are worth a lot of credits."  
Ivanova and Marcus groaned from behind the IPX representativve. The man's ego was unbreakable, larger than the station itself. They were to die listening to his voice continously talking about his undeterred job and his eternal lust for money, well, at least credits. The commander wacked her hands held behind her back to avoid trying to smack Eilerson on the head. Marcus, otherwise, was ready to smack him either way.  
"...but then again, a Ranger does the dirty work either way."  
An insult. Marcus bolted up and raised his hand for a wack attack, his eyes piercing and his jaw set. Ivanova intervened and tried to pull down Marcus' hand from the sky above. Max continued to babble, unaware of the entire incident, as Ivanova restrained the a very angered Marcus Cole. She stared at him, reluctant to do so. "I thought patience was what they taught you in Ranger training."  
He shurgged, his eyes darting from the IPX member to her cool and steady, professional ones. "They taught you everything there," he told her. "Unfortunately, patience wasn't one of the ones I mastered. And let me tell you, they taught us that money is never important, unless...but that man is as corruptable as can be. Might as well throw him out of the airlock!"  
Max stopped, turned in confusion, searching for them.  
Ivanova pushed Marcus and her back around the bend, turning. Two officers gazed at them as if they were...well, anyway, that made Ivanova let go of Marcus. "As much as I'd like to throw him out of the airlock like you, we can't," she told him. "He's needed as a representative. I am representing the entire Earthforce. You are a representative of the Rangers. Please act like one."  
He sighed heavily; it wasn't going to be easy. Then again, anything to do with that Eilerson was never easy. "Oh, alright, Susan," he sighed out loud. "Only because I am a Ranger after all. But remember this, once we get to the bottom of this, I am personally going to say "bon voyage" to him as I boot him out of the airlock, alright?"  
"I'll join you," she agreed.  
Max came around the bend, his blue eyes confused. "Don't we have a meeting to go to?" he asked them. "I mean, you are the ones who are intending to go to this meeting and you're the same ones who are keeping us up!"   
Marcus leered over him, wanting to punch him as his hand coiled to a fist. A hard fist. But Susan stole his bolted hand and smiled nervously at him. "Well, of course," she assured. "Marcus just had to tie his shoelaces a bit."  
Max frowned and looked down. "Those are boots, Commander."  
She nodded stiffly, still smiling nervously. "Exactly," she replied at once, pushing Max forward to the lift. "Now let's go to that blasted meeting you're so anxious about." She let go of Marcus' now out'stretched hand and continued to stride.   
"Me, anxious? Fair commander, you've got it all mistaken."  
Groan; this was going to be a long day,  
  
"I'm picking up something!" Corwin said from his consol.  
Zack frowned from his. "You don't have to yell, lieutenant," he told him. "What is it?" He frowned and checked his controls from his panel propped up on the wall.   
Corwin studied his consol, then his headset. "It's some kind of probe, or ship," he replied, frowning as he was reading off the data. "It's coming through the jumpgate bearing 12 by 16 by 20. Approximate size...the size of a probe? Zack?"  
The security officer frowned. "Aren't those bearings us?"  
Corwin checked on his controls. "Uh-oh."  
Zack Allen spun around to face him. "What do you mean, uh-oh?!"  
He looked up from his consol, visibly annoyed at Zack's tauntings. Why couldn't he go to security or something? "Uh-oh," Corwin repeated. "It means that that probe is headed our way. I can't get a better lock until it gets any closer to proximity. It's going to come through the jumpgate in exactly...forty-five seconds."  
"What do we do?" Zack asked.   
Corwin rolled his eyes. "Wow," he said. "Look back to the third in command for help."  
Zack sighed.   
The lieutenant checked his headset, then he reached for his link, tapping in a command for a channel. "Corwin to Sheridan," he said. Silence. Then, a static reply for his backgrounds seemed very loud. "Sheridan here," came a grouchy reply. "Look, Lieutenant, it better be more than a leaky computer consol for I am really busy down here at the Chamber of Non-Aligned Worlds!"  
No wonder there was all the racket. "Sir," Corwin said anxiously. "There appears to be a probe coming through and is headed this way. Its intentions are unknown. Permission to lock and stock, sir?" He sighed and looked at Allen for some relief.   
"Get Ivanova up there and deal with it, Sheridan out." End.  
Zack frowned. "Well, isn't he such a crabby captain today," he scowled. "Not only do we get triple shift but now we have a crabby captain? We're doomed for it, I tell you! We've been cursed by something. Did anything black like a cat come through our front of space?"  
Corwin frowned at his counterpart. One of these days... "Zack, you're getting delusional." He reached up to his link again, and tapped to a channel. "Corwin to Ambassador Delenn."  
Zack glared at the lieutenant. "What are you asking her for?" he demanded. "This is a military situation, not a political or spiritual problem...although right now what we need is a spirit dancer...but still? She dosen't really have any military tactics as far as I know of. David...are you listening to me?!   
"Yes, Lieutenant."  
"Ambassador," he said anxiously, trembling in his boots. "There appears to be something wrong with the captain. I was hoping you'd like to check on him. He's a bit crabby right now...no, not a bit, really crabby. And Commander Ivanova's on this other meeting with the Hak'Vir. Garibaldi's going on for some security call and some training while Franklin...well, you know...I was hoping you'd..."  
"No problem, Lieutenant, I'd be glad to go," she replied from the other end. "I'll check on you later, Delenn out." The channel ended gracefully as she would have.   
Zack glanced at the link. "Is she a telepath?"  
"Of course not!" he darted back, annoyed.   
"We're being cursed," Zack whispered doomsday as he trembled where he stood at his consol. A beep. Corwin looked down and checked out the signal. "The jump point is opening," he said, his voice quivering as blue light swirled in the middle of space. "It's coming through."  
  
  
Heh heh....well, I'll get on the next one ASAP while doing my other stories. R&R....^^ Luv to hear comments. 


	6. Tiresome Delegations and Threats

Here's the fifth chapter to the story. ^^ R&R!!!  
  
  
CHAPTER FIVE  
Delenn entered the bustling noise of the chambers. The ambassadors were very frisky at the moment and were also very protestant. There, at the front of them all, was Sheridan, tired and snappish as he rolled his eyes and rubbed his temples.   
"Captain---" Drazi ambassador. "What if they attack homeworld?"  
Sheridan was about to reply, but when he caught Delenn's gaze, he stopped his retort and instead said warily, "I'll leave that on to discuss later," he growled. "This meeting is adjourned." He hit the hammer onto the wooden block.   
The restless ambassadors walked off, talking amoungst each other. Delenn glided over to Sheridan's side and smiled. "Hello John," she greeted pleasantly, looking straight into his eyes kindly. "I came to check up on you."  
He stirred in his seat. "I'm okay, Delenn."  
"No, you're not," she insisted gently. "Lt. Corwin and Zack are rather worried about you, John. They say you're crabby, grouchy and inexplicably...as you humans would say, "stressed out." " She took his hand gently. "You must rest captain,"  
"Delenn, I---"  
"Your work will not go anywhere, John," she told him. "But your mind will. In your "heaven" if you keep on pushing yourself like this. The ambassadors are acting like babies, yes, but you mustn't push youself to take care of them. It is time they "grow up.""  
"I suppose so." John patted her hand and smiled. "They can wait."  
Delenn nodded as he got to his feet. "Say," he said, "it's almost lunch and I'm starved. Since Ivanova's down worrying about the Hak'Vir, why won't you join me for lunch. I know this terrfic place," he added, then paused. "Oh! Unless you have something else to do."  
She nodded. "I will be honoured."  
  
"Please, calm down!" Ivanova's voice boomed throughout the conference room. It was a long, slim table. On either side of the commander was Marcus and Max Eilerson, who was right now, very enraged at what the hak'Vir had said. Infront of them was the representative of the party; Counselor M'kat and his collegue who hasn't spoken a word since their arrival.   
Silence; Ivanova sighed. "We are not going to go anywhere if you keep shouting like this!" she snapped angrily. "Now, Counselor, you must understand that my friend and I are only mediating for you. It was not IPX's fault that a piece of an unknown gang tried to steal the cargo."  
"I do not know the intentions of IPX," M'kat snipped. "We were ensured that Babylon 5 is the perfect place to make the trade, away from raiders and pirates of that sort. Now you tell me someone wants the cargo and is here? And what is the use of this...Ranger here? He is not known for the intention of mediating. Perhaps spying."  
"Ridiculous," Max said out loud. "First of all, it is a safe enivorment full of negotiations, you may call, a haven for diplomacy. Second of all, this information was pumped through some second-hand ways and that we assure you, no one really monitors Down Below. Anything can happen down there. You, my honourable Hak'Vir, most of all, are hallucinating things. My friend here is no spy. And I will have whoever I want by my side. Is that so much to ask?!"  
Ivanova rolled her eyes. Oh, the tempation to blurt, "Actually, it is!" but refrained from that comment and instead focused on the two Hak'Vir. She cleared her throat diplomatically and clasped her hands together. "Now, Counselor," she said in a serious tone. "I suggest that we end this as quickly as possible. We have to get this cargo off this station before someone else does. Any questions?"  
"None." A snarl.   
"Good," she replied. "Mr. Cole and I will personally be supervising the entire operation with Mr. Eilerson, in case he decides to run off with your credits." Max smiled at her cheesily. "As well," she added on, ignoring him, "you will be fined an extra ten credits."  
The counselor slammed his palm flat on the table. The table shuddered with a whining resistance. He was enfuried. His red eyes were now flaming like one huge bonfire in the middle fo a forest. As he should be. "What is this extra ten credits for?" he snarled.   
Ivanova remained calm as she could. "Oh, maybe because I could use an extra ten credits," she teased. "Because the fact that I personally placed men there to guard it. I need to pay these guys. As well as you, Max. You are also paying an extra ten credits for the safe delivery of this cargo."  
"Commander!" he cried in protest.   
"Ten credits or I will personally dump that cargo into empty space," she stated firmly. The two sides muttered a yes sir before dropping down heavily on their chairs. Max seemed unhappy but none the less he tried to hide it. But the counselor was unfuriated by this sudden addition to the sum in which they already had to pay.  
The counselor muttered something in their language. He then smiled and turned back to the commander and the two. Uh-oh, this wasn't good. Marcus had a free hand ready to grab his pike, and that Ivanova could see. His moves were perfectly co-ordinated. They both knew it. But just in case, Ivanova was ready to kick some Hak'Vir butt.  
"I'm afraid we don't have that much money."  
Max, out of all the people. "Then you don't get it."  
The counselor smiled again. "You leave me no choice," he said, strangely at ease. "Unfortunately, you've just recieved your last cheque, Mr. Eilerson." He suddenly shot out a gun and aimed it at Eilerson. Marcus and Ivanova pulled him just enough for the gun to shoot the wall. Dust and smog billowed all around, making it hard to see.  
Ivanova, Marcus and Max slammed onto the deck, where there wasn't that much smog and mist. Ivanova, the only one with a link, raised it to her lips and said, "Ivanova to C&C! Ivanova to Security Central! Can you respond?" she demanded, but nor reply. Static. She slammed it. "Damn! We're going to have to do this the old fashion way."  
They spotted a quick set of footsteps hurried to the door before disappearing. "They just left the main doors," she told them. "Follow me." The three crawled to the doors until they could finally see. They got to their feet to see the two Hak'Vir running off. "Stop!"  
Ivanova grabbed a gun from a stand and trooped off. Marcus activated his fighting pike, nearly hitting Max in the head. "Hey, watch where you're setting that off at!" he protested as they ran after their fleeing suppose-to-be-killers. He fought the panic. "Sorry!" he panted.   
The lift shut. "Dammit!" Ivanova said beneath her breath.   
"I think I know where they're headed," Marcus said, tugging at Ivanova's sleeve. "Come with me." They started to run again, passing by civilians. Where were all the officers when you needed them? He led them to some shafts with their doors not yet opened.  
"C'mon, Marcus," Max whined. "It's a shaft. Big deal. You're just going to kill my limbs in the process. And then what will happen? I'll be happening to be paying another thrity credits for a ten minute skin-tight journey through the tight shafts of Babylon 5."  
Ivanova ignored Max's incompetant whining. Beside her, Marcus broke into a sunny-side grin. Ivanova ever so wondered why she had to team up with these two in the first place. Max, the biggest ego in the entire universe paired up with a 24 hour annoying machine Marcus and a headstrong executive offiver. Pretty team they got there.  
"This shaft leads to the cargo bays," Marcus explained proudly.   
Commander Ivanova snapped her fingers. "Of course!" she cried in realization, clasping a hand on his shoulder. "Marcus, you're a genius!" she complimented. "The Hak'Vir obviously dosen't want to pay another ten credits to an ever-expanding profit margin, so they must be headed to the cargo bays to get the cargo off themselves. Brilliant thinking, Marcus."  
Marcus beamed proudly. "Told you I learned the components and maps."  
They struggled a grueling ten minutes in the cramp shafts with Ivanova wiggling in the lead. Marcus trailed not far behind, crawling the same narrow and tight compartment as he followed the commander through the compartment. Behind Marcus was Max, grumbing and sweating and was totally bummed out as he ended the quest by coming out last.  
"As of right now, you owe me ten credits," he huffed wearily, massaging his exhausted limbs. "Babylon 5 is suppose to be a space-like enviorment but apparently by that journey we just did it's more than that. There's more tight spaces here than anywhere else in the galaxy; no wonder so many come here to smuggle practically anything around here---"  
A slam and a clutter. Marcus dropped on all fours behind some cargo boxes and rolled to give them space. Ivanova pulled on Max's suit and pulled his down to hide them. The clamour continued madly. Max was now panic-striken. "Where's your guards? Isn't there suppose to be any around here?"  
They peered through the cracks of the cargo bays in between. The Hak'Vir decided to bring more of their friends. Cluttering up on the floor was their unconcsious security guards, their guns kicked all the way and were now in the hands of the Hak'Vir. The sight made Ivanova burn and she tightened the grip on her gun. The only weapons they had were a gun and a Minbari fighting pike against seven armed Hak'Vir with bony foreheads that might kill the knuckles. Apparently, they were unloading the IPX cargo and shipping it to their ship.  
"My cargo!" Max cried. "They have no right---!"  
"Shut up, Eilerson!" Marcus and Ivanova hissed in unison. That made Eilerson huddle up and remain silent. Ivanova narrowed her eyes at the sight before her. Impossible odds. Maybe she might make it out, or maybe Marcus, but certainly not both. What chance did they have against seven armed to the bone Hak'Vir? Eilerson certainly wouldn't make it for sure. "Even if we make a run for it, the odds are second to none," she said to Marcus.   
"You got a better idea?" Marcus had it in his eyes; fear.  
"No." She settled down and looked at the box index; some craters of some low-tech bombs ment for some initiative battle in the future for any missions dis-embarking. Ivanova settled down for a moment, an idea stirring. Low-tech bombs, just enough to confuse the enemy and make a hit for them. Oh, this was going to be good. "Never mind---yes. Chances are we might not make it, but it's worth a shot. Better than sitting here."  
"Couldn't we just sit here?" Max asked from his small little huddle.  
Ivanova shot him a glance, a glare, but it was Marcus that gave her a wistful amount of support to see it through. "Well," Marcus said wistfully, "whatever it may be better be a doozy." He paused, listening. "If I'm going to die, I'm going to inflict some pain first." He gestured to the crates before Ivanova and tipped his head slightly. "On you lead, Commander."  
They took a moment to open the craters and pull out some nice-looking egg shells. It was just like a 20th century war grenade only instead of gunpowder, it was filled with a lo-tech amount of energy burst. Just enough to fill the room with smog and make a hit for the enemy. Ivanova nodded at Marcus, who had three more of the grenades in his hand. He nodded back. "Ready when you are."  
"One---" she began counting.  
Max ducted for cover. "Why do I have a feeling I'm gonna hate this?"  
"Two---" she continued.   
Marcus placed his fingernail on the key.  
"Three!" They ripped the keys off and threw the grenades aimlessly to the outside. Explosion rocked the entire cargo bay. The last thing Ivanova remembered was Marcus plopping ontop of her in protection as the rest of the crates above them toppled onton them. Then...darkness.  
  
"I'm picking up a sudden burst of neutreno," Allen said, looking up at Corwin, whom stood at the command post that faced the observation window like a statue for the last hour or so. Zack gingerly turned around and faced the stiffened lieutenant. "Corwin..."  
Corwin blinked and turned to face Zack. "An explosion?"  
"Looks like it," Allen confirmed. "Low-tech or so. Apparently, it was hit off at cargo bay three..."  
"Cargo bay three?!" Corwin dashed to his computer consol and checked out the controls. He turned back at Zack. "Zack, there's an IPX ship docked there!" He hit his communications. "Communications' down. Computer's picking up some Hak'Vir down there; didn't they arrive because of that trade with the IPX?"  
"I don't know," Zack replied. "This day keeps on getting worse and worse."  
"Zack!" Corwin scolded as he shifted over so another consol and began fiddling away. He then checked his headset and then back again. "Security's jammed up," he reported. "No movement. Zack...what on earth are you doing?" He looked at Zack's strange face as he hummed back and forth. No reply. "Zack!"  
"Shush," Zack hissed. "I meditating."  
"Meditating?! On the Command Deck?!" Corwin demanded. He sighed and strolled over to where Zack was meditating strangely and shook him gently. "Hey, Zack! You're on Babylon 5 if you don't remember. You're in C&C right now and we have a crisis to avert!"  
"Not when everything else is jinxing us!"  
"Forget the jinx, the bad luck and all that stuff and focus on the prob---"  
"Today's Friday the thirteenth?!" Zack shreeched from his consol, catching a glance of the date. He made a quick dig in his pockets and pulled out a necklace and stringed it on his neck. Corwin looked at him as if he was made. "Hey, it's said it to be good luck!"  
"Zack," Corwin demanded. "Get on that consol and get on Security Central!"  
Zack pulled his hands up innocently, looking straight into the lieutenant's steady gaze. "Hey, okay, okay," he said innocently, pressing on the figures on the screen. A channel opened on waiting for Security Chief Garibaldi to reply on it. "I'm on it, geez, it wasn't like I was doing anything...secuirty?"  
Crowin rolled his eyes at Mr. Allen's innocent remarks. He heard Garibaldi grumble a "Garibaldi here." He then watched as Zack lowered his tone and leaned over seriously. "Yeah, Chief? It's Zack from C&C," he told him. "Say, you picking up a disturbance at in at Cargo Bay Three...yeah, that...no, it ain't no cargo vial explosion, it was a lo-tech neutreno pulse burst...yeah, security's on it, sir but we can't get through...yeah, okay. Allen out."  
"And?" Corwin asked, eyebrows raised up, arms folded.   
"He said he's going down there himself,"  
Corwin jumped back to his post and opened a channel. Zack watched from his consol at what the lieutenant commander was doing. He then frowned when Corwin was up and about, from this to this to this consol. "Corwin, what are you doing?" he demanded.  
"I'm opening a link to Captain Sheridan, but he isn't responding," he told him seriously, looking back at the sergeant. "Looks like we're on our own on this situation. I am going to call for some technicians to try to go through the doors, which apparently they locked. Zack, if you don't mind---"  
"Hum, hum, hum," Zack meditated.  
"Zack!" Corwin demanded. "Zack, snap out of it! We have work to accomplish and you won't help us by humming there when the station can do it itself." But Zack didn't reply and continued to hum and meditate on his consol chair. Corwin shook his head and brought up his link. "Corwin to Technical Group Four, head down in Cargo Bay Three to open doors."  
He turned back at Allen. "Stranger things has happened."  
  
They grunted their way out of the cramp conduits. Ivanova was the last the pop out, her body tightened from the tight conduit that she allowed herself to just drop. Slam! She crashed and met the floor with a resounding thud. She still held the gun, her body aching all over.   
"That was one hell of a bomb," she commented, climbing to her feet. She heard voices, no! More Hak'Vir! What did they bring, their entire race? She dragged them over behind some crates and into the darkness. Max groaned at the unwelcoming damp-ness as he shuddered till Ivanova motioned they were clear.   
Max slumped at the pain and pressed his forehead in pressure.   
Marcus bent down, examining his forehead injury. "Max? Are you alright?"  
He glared at the ranger. "Am I alright?" he replied, his voice rising hysterically. "I have a bleeding gash on my forehead the size of Mt. Olympus that might make me fall into a concussion and you're asking me if I'm alright? Hah! I'm touched by your concern, Mr. Cole."  
"Shut up, Eilerson," Ivanova snipped from behind the crates, still monitoring their position and their surroundings for anything unexpected. "You'll draw attention and then we'll either be hanging by our throats or our throats will be slitted from ear to ear. What'll it be?"  
He mimicked her sour face but said nothing as he put pressure on his head.  
Marcus slid over to Ivanova's side. "What happened?" he asked her.   
She shook her head. "Lots of smoke," she replied unevenly. "Must have gave the Hak'Vir one hell of a shot. Max dashed over to get something, and I must have shouted out at him. Firing aimlessly began and Max must have slammed into the head. I dragged him and your no-excuse of a ranger body to the conduit and I think we lost them---"  
"Then who are they?" Marcus whispered, pointing at the other Hak'Vir.  
She shrugged. "I haven't made up my mind on that," she replied. "Either they have one hell of a huge crew or they decided to drag their entire planetary popula- tion over to Babylon 5." She shook her head again and reloaded her gun. "Max! What did you take from there that nearly killed you in the process?"  
Max fumbled into his jacket pocket and pulled out a shiny black box and held it up as if it were a sacred urn. "This," he replied with a glimmer of pride. "This was what my entire journey was worth for. Anyone would kill for this little black baby..."  
"A box?" Marcus cried incerdulously, confirming Ivanova's silent thoughts. "You came all the way from Earth, risked your life through this, even paid an extra ten credits---" Max began to squirm. "---all for one lousy, slim, no-use of a box?  
And you're paid how much?!"  
"For your information, Mr. Cole," Max said arrogantly, "first of all, this isn't lousy or useless." He opened it to reveal two beautiful heavy-gold bracelets with such design and such heavy regard. It glimmered despite the poor lightings given. Marcus and Ivanova gaped and awed before looking at each other with surprise. "This," Max continued, "is a legendary artifact from the remaining of the Salari royal family on the little planet we had sited. Hell, it's worth more than anything and apparently belongs to the Hak'Vir...or so they say."  
"Wow," Ivanova awed, "anyone would kill for it."  
"Yes," Max replied all-knowingly. "And second of all, Mr. Cole, I am being paid enough to live quite confortably unlike you and that damned pike of yours. Surely you can be paid better than that." He frowned slightly as he closed the box again. Marcus glared at him.  
"Excuse me, Mr. Eilerson," Marcus snapped, "but for your information, I do not get paid. Second of all, I live quite confortably all right in this little world of mine and third of all, I do not need someone who gets paid handsomely, let alone from IPX, nothing personal, to tell me of my problems in life!"  
"Excuse me!" Max cried.   
If it weren't for Ivanova sliding in between them, they would have gotten caught. "Excuse me," she hissed venomously. "But if you don't mind, I'd love to carry on this discussion, but not right now. As you can see, we've got Hak'Vir behind us and we're Down Below. So stop arguing who's king of the hill and let's get the hell back up!"  
That silenced them. They returned to their natural post.   
"Damn," Marcus cursed above a whisper.   
Ivanova craned her head. "What is it, Marcus?" she asked.   
He pointed at three men, laughing and drinking. Their clothes were filthy, old, ragged. Looked like they dressed in sack, cloth and ashes. He didn't looked very amused, or happy at that matter. "Those men," he pointed out, "are part of the Amsterdam gang."  
"Oh, just great," Ivanova snickered, "we got to get out of here!"  
"The question is," Max interrupted, "is how."  
Marcus found some cloaks. He tossed it onto Ivanova's head and body. It smelled hideously, as if a rat just died in it and then it wasn't cleaned properly. She scowled at Marcus as she ticked off some pieces of hay---hay?---onto the floor. "Marcus," she rasped angrily, "this is no time for dress up time."  
"It isn't a dress up," he replied, "it's a disguise. They'll recodnize your uniforms and march off. Max," he called, but he was too busy looking anguishly at the gang. He then plucked the IPX symbol insignia on his nice suit. Max twisted a scowl at Marcus.   
"Marcus!" he cried angrily.   
"They'll recodnize that too," he said at him, tugging on the sleeve. He looked back at the gang. Drunk. Perfect. It was going to work perfectly according to his thoughts. "Lose the jacket, Max."   
"Wha---Marcus!" Max cried. "This was worth five hundred credits!"  
"Lose the jacket, Eilerson," Ivanova monotoned. She darted a glare at the IPX member. "They'll decide to pick-pocket you at any rate. The more you look civilian, the less noticable you're be...Marcus, what about you?" But he was already covering himself with his cloak hood. He looked like the grim reaper, making her shiver. "Gosh, Marcus, you're going to make me suffer a heart-attack."  
Marcus grinned from beneath the covers. "Well, that tells how well I am dressed, now aren't I?" He watched her roll her eyes before he said, "Okay, this is what we're going to do---"  



	7. Uncovered Agendas

Here's the next chapter. Enjoy! ^^  
  
CHAPTER SIX  
"Lunch was beautiful," Delenn commented as they walked down the corridors.  
Sheridan nodded as he nodded at a technician. "Yes, it put a lot of questions at rest," he agreed quietly. "As well as the political situations going on up at the conference room. One day the League of Non-Aligned Worlds is going to fall, and then what?"  
"We build amoung the ruins," she replied wisely.   
He patted her hand. She was incredibly wise in a way and that made her shine bright enough to go up with Ivanova, who shone in a different way, but nonetheless the two females shone. He relied on his executive officer for anything tactical and related to the physical problems they faced while on the other hand, he relied on Delenn for her wise inward sights.   
"Yes," he replied. "yes, we do."  
The conference room was down at the end. He could already hear the ambassadors yelling at each other. That wasn't conferencing; it was a shouting contest. He sighed heavily at the voices; minutes later, he was going to be amoung the voices yelling like crazy for silence.   
He turned back to the ambassador. "Well, this is it."  
"I will see you later, Captain." She smiled kindly, nodded and twirled her way. Her dress moved and ruffled slightly with the dress and before long, she was clipping her way through the chaos soothingly, smooth, calm like rain.   
One of the days, Sheridan thought to himself, you are going to get in trouble for that. He shook his head and straightened his navy blue uniform and headed towards the conference room. He shook his head as the voices got louder and louder. It was going to be a long afternoon.  
  
"Mr. Gavis," Corwin said from his consol up facing the window, "are you picking up something off the station, five thousand clicks off out starport bow?" He had picked up something previously, but had decided against it. By an acknowledged nod, the latter was true; something was up.   
"Allen," Corwin called. No reply. "Zack!"  
Still no reply. Now what was Mr. Allen up to? He wasn't in the Ministry of Peace conference again, was he? He needed him here on C&C right now, dealing with this type of mess. He shook his head and strode over to the warrent officer's area, whom was busy looking at the viewscreen. News. ISN.   
"---and President Clack has called all ships to be called back to Earth."  
Allen shook his head, aware of Corwin's air of presence. "I think the President's going nuts," he said, not turning yet. "Something weird's going on. He calls back military ships back to Earth for another transfer of position. What the hell is this all about? War? Who's invading who?" He shook his head. "Where is the galaxy turning these days?"  
"Yes, something weird is definitely going on," Corwin agreed hardly, staring at Allen. "Zack, we're picking up some unusual sensor readings five thousand clicks off the starport bow and here you are listening to the news?" He looked at him, turning his chair around and shutting off ISN. "Zack! I need you alert and ready!"  
"Aye, sir!"  
Corwin nodded. "Now I want you to identify that thing that's outside the station," he ordered. "Located, Identified. Is that so much to---"  
"Lt. Corwin! I'm picking up a surge from the object!"  
"Put the maintence camera on-line," Corwin ordered and turned to the nearest viewscreen. One weird spike in space, silver hull and very sleek..."Hak'Vir," he realized in identification. "What are they doing? And what on Earth is that thing?" He watched as something at the forward powered up. "Isn't that the probe we picked up from the jump point?"   
"Ensign! Get deflectors up---now!"  
Boom! Too late! The station shuddered as Zack crashed from his chair and onto the rung floor. He was sliding. Corwin's abdomen slammed the rails as his hands reached out to grasp onto the rails. He pulled himself up, the vibrations making his eyes tremble. "Report!"  
The ensign he was referring to a while ago tried to check out her consols and monitors when an electric shock was released. He spiked her and they heard a scream and down the ensign went. Allen dashed to his feet and staggered to the fallen ensign. He looked at Crowin, whom reached for his link and said, "Medlab."  
Static. He looked back at Allen, who toggled his. "Allen to Medlab."  
Static. "What on earth did that thing do to our computer systems?" he demanded, as he walked over to the Observation window. Allen left the ensign to a lieutenant and walked over to Corwin's side and looked out. Corwin continued. "We lost contact with the entire station, great. Now I know how the commander feels at this position."  
  
"Haw, haw, haw!" Laughter.  
Actually, their head leader, or so to say, Min'sk, a human of a strange name was laughing louder than the others. Oh well. They were drunk of course. How else could explain the stale beer and the nasty other fumes that contrasted with the beer and sweat that made Marcus scowl from underneath his covers. He was carrying an unconcsious Ivanova and at the other side of her blessedly silent body was Max, supporting her.  
Slam! Max, why did he have to do that? Marcus turned in alarm. The towering trio looked down at the dwarfed Max, who smiled nervously at the six piercing eyes that glared down at him. "Um," Max gulped, "hi...sorry...um, we have to...um, go, c'mon dear fellow...before you...wife, gets into a...coma or...a cardiac arrest."  
His supposedly-persecutors frowned and so did Marcus. "You idiot!" he spat. "A cardiac arrest and a coma is two different things!" Max smiled grimly at the Ranger. "Hello, but these guys don't know that," he said sarcastically. "You must be a medic in spending time with that Dr. Franklin. Now let's get Susan out of here."  
A grubby hand stopped Max. "Susan? As in Susan Ivanova?" their leader, Min'sk inquired sharply, exhaling a gas of stale beer and something Max didn't want to venture yet. He quietly drew his breath in. "Ivanova, the Number Two on the station? She's not married! And you!" He pointed to Marcus' hooded figure, "You're not married! You're a Ranger!" He turned to his other companions. "Kewt, Tigger, check who's under that brown sack."  
Uh-oh, Marcus thought as he was pushed back, Susan isn't gonna like this.  
A hand grabbed the unconcsious body and another hand pulled her hood back. A sooty, wounded form of Ivanova's face. They lighted her face in the light and Min'sk nodded, wasn't Minsk a place?, before grabbing Max violently. Suddenly, Ivanova's eyes flashed open and threw a resounding punch at Tigger's dirty jaw.  
Marcus broke formation and reached in and activated his pike. With experience and swiftness, he caught Kewt at the end of his chin, then at the belly and caught him off balance before he could catch a fighting stance. The advantages were on their side; they were obviously drunk. He turned to see that Ivanova successfully caught the man down and was now on the floor and watching stars. He tipped his head and she smiled.   
"Um...hate to break your victory celebration, but help!"  
They turned to see Max with a dagger pressed dangerously close to his neck. Marcus had his pike ready to beat the stuffings out of Min'sk and Ivanova had her pistol aimed at Min'sk. The big doofus gruffawed. "If you kill me," he gruffed, "you'll find your friend dead along with me."  
Max smiled cheesily. "Hey, I'd take up the offer."  
"Min'sk," Ivanova clipped coolly, avoiding all possibilities and her voice strangely at ease. Marcus only prayed that she was doing the right thing as he gripped his pike anxiously and tightly. "C'mon, man, you're a man. You don't have to do this. Drop the dagger and we can do this the easy way."  
"And the hard way?"  
She narrowed her eyes conspiciously. "Well, my friend and I can beat the crap out of you if you kill our other friend," she growled in reply, all the cool and easiness gone and was replaced by a fuming volcano ready to sprout. Marcus was ready as he formed a stance as they parted way, circling him. "And then, without trial, we'll just throw you out of the airlock...head first."  
Min'sk laughed. "Captain Sheridan won't let you," he sneered. "You have a policy, a regulation to follow, Earthforcer. You can't just throw us out the airlock. The detah penalty's only for treason or mutiny...or both. Haw, haw, haw!" He continued to laugh that mingled the cold dagger on Max's throat was well.  
She laughed along with him and so did Marcus. "You know," Marcus said, "they could brainwash you for this." Min'sk turned dead white when he saw that the ranger's eyes wasn't kidding. Ivanova, in her eyes, were amused, and Marcus could see that. "We also have an airlock policy," she added grimly. "Your choice, Min'sk."  
"I want the box, dammit! Just give me the damned box!"  
Ivanova's face went taunt melodramatically. 'Um, he dosen't have it," she said softly and evenly. Max's face went white as so did Marcus as well as Min'sk. Then where's the bloody box? Marcus wanted to know. The box that Max's journey was all worth for?  
"Then who has it!" the gangster roared.   
Ivanova reached into her inside pocket...and revealed a narrow box. She waved it at his face. "Is this it?" she taunted.   
The gangster growled, dropped Max who landed on the ground with a clunk, as he dashed to reach the box and body slam tthe commander. She was braced and ready for impact. Marcus, obviously would not allow that, instinctively waited till he was behind the big mongrol before slamming his pike on the gangster's head. He dropped on the floor, inches away from Ivanova and the box. "You okay?" he asked immediately.  
She nodded. "Yeah, I think so. Thanks, Marcus," she thanked in a quiver.  
Max got to his feet, rubbing his rear. "Ow," he complained. "He dropped me like a piece of metal." He frowned and winced in pain. His eyes turned round at the sight of his box. "How did you---?"  
Ivanova smiled despite her injuries. "Trade secret," she said. "Got it off Marcus." Before the ranger could protest, she added, "Look, we've had a long day. Let's just all go back to our quarters and have anice hot bath and meet at... let's say the eclipse for dinner?"  
"That can work," Max said as he winced again.  
"Will do nicely," Marcus smiled.  
Ivanova smirked at him. "You're paying," she added to him and silently was amsued when his face turned coloured. She smiled and pointed out gently, "You owe me, remember?" He frowned at first before nodding. "Just as long as it dosen't cost me my own pants as well," he conditioned.   
Max clasped his shoulder. "Don't worry," he replied. "Just the bar."  
"Max!"  
But his voice was drowned by a sudden shake of the entire station.  
  
"This is nuts," Allen commented. "But I must never question my commanding officer." He was busy sending signals using a cooled-out consol on the Observation Deck. Corwin smiled from behind; he was in charge, right? Being Number Three wasn't so bad after all; if it meant giving Allen the dark days.   
"Is it ready, Zack?"  
"Yes, it is," he replied. "At your disposal." He gestured at tthe box. "Just tell me you're going to stop these nut balls from destroying the entire station." Corwin nodded before hailing their Starfuries, whom were busy out on patrol for the last morning of so.   
"Corwin to Starfuries," he called. "I want you to intercept the Hak'Vir ship off our starport bow. Intercept and hail under peaceful relations. If they do not reply accordingly, cripple the ship." He paused before adding,"But don't destroy it or you're destroy us!"  
"Roger that, Babylon Control," came the reply from the wing leader.  
Corwin nodded and clasped his hands behind his back and looked out at the stars. Beside him, Zack awed. Obviously he wasn't on C&C for a long time before. "You know," Zack said softly, "When I first was making a resume to have this job, I was wondering how it would be like to enforce the law in space. Space was said to be the "New Frontier" or the "third age of man!" but, being here for this long makes space also be a cold, uninviting place as well."  
The lieutenant nodded. "I agree," he replied softly. "So, you okay on this?"  
Zack shrugged and managed a smile. "Hey," he said jokingly, "you're the boss; right now, that is. Cmdr. Ivanova's on this cargo situation and Capt. Sheridan's trying to keep the League of Non-Aligned Worlds together. The the Chief? I hope he's okay out there."  
"He's the chief security officer," Corwin countered. "He can take care of himself. Otherwise Cmdr. Sinclair would have never put him in command in the first place. Even Capt. Sheridan learned to accept him. If he couldn't preform the job, he would have never been accepted before."  
"Hell, I hope so."  
  
"Get back! You're not yet done! What the hell---I gave you an order!" Why were the Hak'Vir so stubborn? Garibaldi couldn't even give them a direct order. He rubbed his temples were a mighty huge headache was exploding. His men were crowding in, making sure that the Hak'Vir would not get out of interrogation. But they were stubborn and were pushing through to be released.   
But his officers were stronger and they pushed the Hak'Vir to the wall as they checked for any weapons. Garibaldi stepped up to their supposedly leader, Counselor M'kat. "Okay, what did you do?" Garibaldi asked him. "You violated station laws. You set off some gas bomb in the other conference room, causing Cmdr. Ivanova, our resident Ranger Marcus and our IPX friend running after you. Then another bomb takes off and there you are with our---my unconcsious officers and carrying their weapons!"  
"It was your commander that set off the bombs!"  
"Don't blame this all on Ivanova, pal," Garibaldi warned. He turned to his other junior officer. "Anything?" he asked.   
The officer frowned as if he was mad. "Anything?" he repeated. "More like everything!" He pointed to a heap of bombs, explosives, daggers, autoclips, stingers, pistols, rifles, gosh, what I want to know is how the hell they got to hide all this crap inside their cloaks without getting noticed!"  
Garibaldi scowled at the Hak'Vir. Long and very large robes; goodness knows if their were as thin as a stick. He waved the two of his officers to pack up the weaponry abd place it under some field. He snickered; in all of his years on Babylon 5, he had never met a race who could sneak pass officials carrying everything a terrorist could ever need.  
"Cooper, Melani," he ordered, "get these Hak'Vir into a holding cell and see they don't try anything stupid." His two officers nodded as they gestured two more to accompany them. Before they left, Garibaldi grabbed the counselor's arm. "You and I, pal, are going to have a talk. A very long talk."  
He could've sworn the Hak'Vir squirmed.  
  
  
Please R&R! ^^ 


	8. The Conclusion to the Hypothesis

This is a pretty short chapter, so sit back and read this. ^^ Please R&R!  
  
CHAPTER SEVEN  
"So," Ivanova concurred, "the Hak'Vir recruited the Amsterdam gang to try to steal the cargo in case their dealings with IPX turned sour. But Marcus foiled their perfect set-up when he heard of them here and so we were able to stop half of the gig. The Hak'Vir must have gotten angry and when we fined them an extra ten, they must have gone bezerk."  
They were in MedLab, getting treated for their scratches and bruises. Max was still getting fixed up by Dr. Stephen Franklin, whom was listening to the entire lecture. Beside Ivanova was a recovering Marcus, whom had a bandage on his forehead after scratching himself when an explosion occurred.  
"What I want to know," Garibaldi said out loud, hands crossed and leaning on the wall, "is how the hell they got pass my security without detection of all the weaponry? Gosh, they were like a stash house on their own that any terrorist could come across of."  
"The Hak'Vir," Max said, "dear security fellow, are known for it. They have everything and are very business like. Their planet is filled with precious both stragetic and just plain genuine metals and stones. They're rich. None of them are poor. But if they are that rich and have of everything..."  
"...then they also have weaponry," Marcus concluded.   
Max snapped his fingers. "Exactly, dear Ranger."  
"How about that rock the station made?" Marcus asked.   
"Supposedly the entire station was hit by something," Ivanova thought out loud, struggling to think. "Wait a minute! Who's on duty at C&C right now!" Please! Don't tell me! she cried inside her head as they all wondered themselves. She saw Garibaldi snap his fingers.  
"Corwin and Zack," Garibaldi replied to her question.   
"Oh no," Ivanova said, getting to her feet and racing to the door.   
Franklin went after her. "Ivanova! Where are you going?!" he wanted to know, but was cut short when Marcus, Garibaldi and Max raced out after her. Franklin shrugged and followed his friends.  
They passed by the chambers where the ambassadors were obviously arguing and discussing politically. Unfortunately, it was silent. Out came a weary-eyed captain and Ambassador Delenn was showing him out, hovered by a loyal Lennier, a full Minbari within the religious caste.   
"Captain?" Ivanova cried in disbelief.  
He winced, physically. "Please, Commander," he rasped, "please keep is down."  
Garibaldi frowned. "What happened?" he asked softly.   
Delenn answered him for Sheridan. "He had a very...interesting argument in the chambers of Non-Aligned Worlds today," she replied softly and smoothly. Sheridan frowned at the ambassador's choice of words. "I---they got out of hand and the shouting began---we managed to persuade the ambassadors to come back at a later date so we could tend to the captain."  
"It took a lot," Lennier added, "but we managed to persuade them very."  
"I hate politics," Sheridan stated simply. "Where are you headed?"  
"C&C," Marcus prompted before Ivanova explained, "Corwin and Allen are both up there and I think they may need out help up there. The station rocketted and everything turned a bit dim coz we were down at Down Below trying to stop the Amsterdam gang and the Hak'Vir from trying to steal the IPX cargo."  
"Bastards,those Hak'Vir," Max muttered beneath his breath, rubbing a box.  
"Yes, the station was hit," Lennier countered. "But I don not know who."  
Sheridan straightened. "We must go to C&C," he stated firmly. Ivanova led the way, Marcus and Garibaldi at her side, behind them was Franklin and a strangely at ease Max Eilerson and behind them limped Sheridan and supporting him was Ambassador Delenn and her aide, Lennier.   
They trooped to the Command Centre. The doors swung open almost immediately. Ivanova dropped her jaw. The consols were sizzling. They were crackling. It looked like they took one hell of an energy surge. The officers' uniforms and faces were sooted black. And near the Observation Window stood a embaressed and wearied Lt. Corwin and Zack Allen.  
"What happened to my Command Center?!" Ivanova wanted to know.  
Beside her, Sheridan collapsed and fainted at the sight. 


	9. Epilogue- The End of a Dream

The conclusion to the story! ^^ Yay! Please R&R!  
  
CHAPTER EIGHT  
FIRST OFFICER'S LOG:  
THAT WAS ONE HECK OF A DAY WE HAD. WE FOUND OUT THE TRUE INTENTIONS OF   
THE HAK'VIR.THEY PLANNED TO SELL THAT NECKLACE EILERSON HAD UNEARTHED   
TO SELL BACK TO HIS PEOPLE  
AND TAKE ALL TEH CREDIT. THEY HIRED THE AMSTERDAM GANG TO MAKE SURE THEY   
GOT WHAT THEY WANTED AND THE HAK'VIR EVEN HAD ONE HUGE WEAPON WAITING   
OUTSIDE AS A BACKUP. ALL THIS TROUBLE OVER TWO HEAVY GOLD NECKLACES  
---BRACELETS, WHATEVER.IN THE END, IT ALL TURNED OUT ALRIGHT. DELENN   
TELLS ME THAT CAPTAIN SHERIDAN WILL BE BACK ON HIS FEET, BUT I THINK HE'S   
DO ANYTHING TO GET OUT OF POLITICS. HE NEARLY KILLED FRANKLIN OVER IT. HMM...EILERSON'S SHIP LEAVES TOMORROW AND GARIBALDI'S HAVING ONE OF   
THOSE DAYS AGAIN. CORWIN AND ALLEN BOTH HAVE BEEN GIVEN A DAY OFF TO   
REST; TRIPLE SHIFTS WERE JUST TOO MUCH FOR THEM. AND AS FOR MARCUS AND   
I? I WON THAT BET AND NOW HE OWES ME DINNER. FOR ONCE.  
  
"Thanks for dinner, Marcus."  
Marcus laughed as he accompanied him to her door. They had came back from the Eclipse, an Earth shop that had everything fresh and were from Earth. Ivanova couldn't remember from the last time she actually ate something from Earth and gotten really full.  
"You're welcome," he replied. "Umm...does that mean that the debt is paid?" he wanted to know, as Ivanova managed a crooked smile.   
"If you don't watch it, you'll wind up owing me again," she warned, biting back a smile when he squirmed on his boots. "Well, that's my first real meal without all that stuff for once, so you could consider the debt paid." She nodded. "Thanks again, Marcus."  
He smiled gallantly. "Always happy to serve my favourite commander."  
She didn't know what to say, or what it meant. But she nodded as she opened the door to her quarters. "Well, thanks again, Marcus," she said again, eentering through the door. He nodded again. Gosh, why was she so speechless. "Well, good night Marcus."  
"I'll see you when Eilerson leaves tomorrow," Marcus replied back to her. "Good night Susan."  
The door slid shut and that was the end. Ivanova waved her loose hair aside as she swerved over to her control panel. "Computer," she ordered. "Any new messages for me?" She wrestled off her bulky and stiff navy uniform and tossed it over to her couch,  
"None."  
"Good. Hold my calls. I'm hitting the sacks."  
  
Corwin stirred his synthetic coffee. There was no real coffee in space; it was very hard to find it. Apparently, when he signed on to Earthforce, they never said there would be no coffee and that they would manage in space with chemical-flavoured water. One day, he said to himself, we can be able to drink real coffee. But not in my time. Not with all this stuff going on.  
"Hey, may I join you?"  
He looked up to see Zack Allen towering before him with a loaded tray. Corwin silently gestured for Allen to take a seat, and he eagarly took it. He nodded at him. "What's up?" he asked, eating some biscuits from his nicely loaded tray. Not as much as what Garibaldi eats, at least.   
Corwin shrugged. "I was just thinking," he said out loud now, "that one day, Earthforce will be able to export coffee to here in space. That would be nice. No more synthetic poison or anything." Allen laughed. "But not in this timeline. Not after all that's going on."  
"I respect your position, Dave," Allen said sympathetically.   
"Thank you." He stopped and leaned over. "You know, about the day before, I think we done the right thing, despite the...so we say, results of the transactions."  
Allen laughed again. "Of course."  
"I finally know how it feels to be a hero, for once," he said. "It we didn't destabilize the ship from up here, we would be in oblivion right now. And I now know how it feels to be in command. I'll know how it's like when I become captain of my own starship, or maybe commander of this station when Ivanova and Sheridan decides to transfer."  
"You like to look forward to this stuff?" Zack asked curiously.   
"Yeah," he admitted. "I just hope we didn't give Sheridan a seizure."  
Zack laughed. "Perhaps a promotion on the spot," he said. "One day, when it's our time, I'll be in charge of security. Enforcing the station rules. But we all did a part yesterday. Ivanova and Marcus stopped the Amsterdam gang on the station, Garibaldi caught those menacing Hak'Vir and Sheridan helped by keeping those ambaassadors glued together."  
"I just hope the glue lasts," Corwin hoped wistfully. He caught Ivanova and Marcus with the IPX man walking towards the docking rings. "Gee, I guess our little guest is leaving the station now."  
"I suppose so." Zack raised his drinks. "For our future...and for our necks." Corwin raised his synthetic whatever up and matched up the toast. It'll be their time...someday soon.  
  
"Hello, Captain. You called for me?"   
Delenn stood over Sheridan's cot where he lay. Never did she see him in such a state. He was fumed when he heard he could go back to work and deal with the other ambassadors and that incident added up to another few days in MedLab over observation. He nodded. "Ambassador, as you heard, I'm ggoing to be staying here for another two days. And I need you to do something..."  
  
"Feel free to come back anytime, Mr. Eilerson," Ivanova was saying.  
"Gee, I wonder when," he shot back sarcastically.   
Ivanova frowned as Marcus watched the transaction with amusement. He smiled at Max. "You should count yourself lucky, Max," he stated. "For if you went totally over our dear commander's head, you'd be outside the airlock right now, your face blue and floating dead. Count yourself lucky."  
"I suppose so." They stopped infront of the docking ring to his ship. "Thank you again, Commander, Marcus. Despite the situation we had here, I had a pretty good time on my stay. Good luck to you, commander, you've got a loyal crew under your wings." The two exchanged a handshake.  
Ivanova stepped back to allow the Marcus and him tot alk privately. Max nodded. "Well," he said, "thanks, Ranger. You were a really good pal while I was here. I guess we got off at the wrong foot or something---" Marcus laughed. "---but otherwise if it weren't ffor you, I'd be dead right now."  
Marcus nodded slightly "It's what we do."  
"I'll try to stay in touch," he continued on. "But I think because of our differences, it might be tough. I don't know when I'll be back, but I'll try anyhow. Good luck, Ranger and," he leaned over in a whisper, "keep up with Commander Ivanova."  
He frowned but clasped hands anyhow. "Good luck, Max."  
Ivanova rejoined Marcus as Eilerson walked into the dockinng which he entered a few days ago. Then, he disappeared. Marcus seemed a little distant, as she clasped his shoulder. They began to walk away. "Do you think we'd ever see him again?" she asked him finally.   
"Oh, I doubt it," Marcus replied. "We're on an interstellar despot. He's an IPX man leaping from planet to planet. We'll be lucky if he ever leaps back here again, but by the move of things, things will sharpen up again."  
She stopped and glared at her. "Your prediction?" she asked.   
"I don't predict."  
"Admit it, Marcus," she said. "You really think something's going to happen. Yes, I know of the shadows," She dropped her voice reasonably, "and I know they're going to try to screw our entire lives up but you seriously believe that something else will stir up?"  
"In this galaxy, anything can happen."   
"I hope Ambassador Delenn is right about that," Ivanova wondered out loud, recodnizing the choice of words, making him colour reluctantly against will. She smiled small before frowning at the realization of her question. "Makes me wonder, where is Ambassador Delenn?"  
  
"Ambassadors, please!"  
The ambassadors in the chambers of the League of Non-Aligned Worlds was very restless and they were very loud. Human ears could be ever-so sensitive. No one would listen to her shouts of silence and peace and that was even worse that ever. The ambassadors were at each others throats! If the Centauri and Narn war wasn't bad enough...  
She slumped back to her chair and rubbed her forehead. Pain; was this what the humans call a headache? Their shouts echoed in hER newly mixed chemistry; human-minbari. Her head ached; she wished she could have taken up what Lennier offered. What was she thinking? She realized that the term "pain in the butt" was coming in.   
It was going to be a long day.  
  
OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO  
  
ABOARD THE EXCALIBUR  
YEAR: 2267, PRESENT  
  
"Crew, I'd like you to meet Captain Susan Ivanova," Captain Matthew Gideon introduced to a young woman over thirty now with a neat uniform. Max blinked; wasn't it only yesterday she was in a commander's uniform? Funny, it was six years ago that she was only a commander of Babylon 5, the last of the Babylon stations.  
Gideon was different; darker, always brooding. Or maybe because he and Gideon were always at each other's throats. Marcus. Once Ivanova reached to Eilerson, he would ask whatever happened to the ranger that had a puppy love for the headstrong commander...major...whatever.   
"And this," Gideon finally said, "is the head of our linguist and archaeological department...Maximillian Eilerson." Ivanova nodded slightly to him as he did the same. "Eilerson," she greeted kindly. "It's been a long time since I last saw you. Last time you were on Babylon 5, you were...arranging that meeting with the Hak'Vir."  
Now Gideon and Captain Elizabeth Lochley were listening as well as Dr. Sarah Chambers with the same thought in mind: They met? He didn't mind, he didn't care. This was his business and his business alone. He learned many things during his stay on the Excalibur; leave one alone and you shall not be bothered. But it never worked either way.  
"It's good to see you again," he replied back curtly. "Um, mind if I may ask, whatever happened to my good ranger friend, Marcus? I heard they were involved in the Shadow war and the Civil war on Earth Alliance?" He smiled. "Funny, six years..."  
Ivanova seemed drawn back a bit. As if recovering. "He's gone, Max," she finally said softly. "He died during the Civil War. He---He saved my life Max. He let me live and took death instead." She shook the memory away.   
Max couldn't believe it. Marcus, dead? He was a ranger for crying out loud! If only he was there to see him before the war, or during the war. He was far off when the war started, expedition on another planet and they were quarintined to remain till the war ended. So much had happened; it was over six years and now he found out the awful truth.   
"If I were there," he finally said softly, "I would have gave my life to him. I owed him that much." He looked at the floor, fallen by grief. "He loved you, you know. He---he told me that, that day. He was 'up to the challange' I suppose." He gave a short, bitter laugh.  
"I know," she whispered. "He told me before he...left."  
Max gulped; he was in front of the entire crew! Oh, what the hell? They never cared. They thought he was always out for the profit; what did they know of that? "I---I guess that ends my question. Now, I guess I'll be eternally grateful till the day I die. Who said the dead can't hear our prayers."  
"Max---!" Chambers broke in, unable to hold the tension.   
But Max had walked out to a window and watch the stars. Not even a couple of miles couldn't keep them from speaking. Somewhere out there, Marcus Cole was there, with that damned Minbari pike that nearly lost his nose, and looking down at every move Ivanova and he made. All those stars...  
Goodbye, my friend. You will be missed.   
  
END  
Okay, well, there's a sequal to this. It'll be in the Crusade section sometime soon. ^_~ Well, I hope you enjoyed this little adventure. ^^ 


End file.
